


He'll save every one of us

by Adrenaline_Roulette



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Also these tags are really starting to get out of hand, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anyone who doesnt is wrooooong, Band Fic, Battered sausage sounds like a really bad innuendo, Character Death, Clogs, Dark Humor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Freddie hates the clogs, Freddie makes Brian sound hella creepy, Grief/Mourning, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I quote a lot of memes, Mentions of medical conditions, Music, Romance, Sassy, Swapping girlfriends, Swearing, Timeline? Hahahaha what timeline?, Yes i like vinegar on my chips, blonde haired blue eyed floozy roger taylor, bonding over clogs, honestly this time line is all over the place im sorry, not how deaky joined queen like at all, pretty angsty, shameless use of the beatles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-01-13 04:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18461585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adrenaline_Roulette/pseuds/Adrenaline_Roulette
Summary: “If you want to kick something, feel free to kick our van, Roger’s been pissing me off all week.” Came a deep voice from behind you both.“I’m sorry Mister, but I have a strict no kicking stranger’s cars policy. You’ll just have to kick Roger’s car yourself.”“Is there any particular reason as to why Roger’s car should be the victim of such abuse?”





	1. The Midnight Librarians

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again, it is I, the bringer of pure fluff Queen fiction once again!  
> I told you I had multiple stories I was in the progress of writing, so here is yet another one!  
> Please forgive the historical inaccuracies within this story, it was made for a little bit of fun, and that's all.  
> Let me know if you would like to see this continued, I wouldn't be opposed to making it a multi chapter thingy!  
> And feel free to send me any requests you may have for future stories involving any members of Queen or the BoRhap cast!  
> Peace and Love <3
> 
> Word count, 4353

You twirled your drum stick between your fingers, your foot tapping against the stage floor impatiently as you scanned your eyes across the sea of pub goers all awaiting your band to start performing. The crowd had been growing steadily for the past hour, though it wasn’t until five minutes ago that you and your bass guitarist Bree began to stress. This was your first performance for the summer break, and the pub had booked you to play every Friday and Saturday night until the Universities all went back, at the time you had all been beyond excited to have a steady gig for a little while, though now, sitting under the beating stage lights, you realised this could very well be your first and last gig! Your band had been booked at the last minute, only receiving the news of your time slot at the beginning of the week.   It wasn’t impossible to perform your set without your lead guitarist, but he did provide back up vocals, and the songs just wouldn’t sound the same without his harmonies.  The drumstick stopped abruptly in its spin, as you snapped your attention towards Bree, who had stopped tuning her guitar, an identical expression of worry etched across her face. Gesturing your head towards backstage, she eagerly nodded, and you both scurried off the bright stage, leaving your audience to wait even longer for the music to begin.

You kick the backstage door open, storming off into the carpark, your fists clenched at your sides as you go. Bree follows a ways behind you, choosing to express her anger in silence, unlike you, who decided to scream as gutturally as possible. It was an excellent way to ruin your voice just before a gig, but you couldn’t give a damn any more.

“Where the fuck is he?” You growl, as you stomp over to Bree’s station wagon, kicking the rear tyre in frustration. “He had better have a bloody good excuse for not showing up! And if tries to pull the whole, ‘Oh, I didn’t realise that was tonight!’ shit again, I’ll rip his head off!”

Bree puts her hands out in front of her, a sign that she came in peace and meant no harm. “Last I heard from him, he promised to be here, maybe something bad happened?”

“Unless he’s either dead or dying, then I fail to see what would cause him to bail without notice.” You mutter, turning your attention back to putting as much effort as possible into breaking your targeted tyre.

“Jeez Y/N, could you maybe not destroy my car? We need to get out of here somehow, if we plan on ditching that is?” Bree sighs, stepping closer to you, now that you had calmed down somewhat.

“If you want to kick something, feel free to kick our van, Roger’s been pissing me off all week.” Came a deep voice from behind you both. Stopping mid kick, you turn on the spot, regarding the new arrival with an unamused expression.

You fold you arms across your chest, tilting your head to one side as you look over the man stood before you. He had chin length hair, which looked to have been ironed into straightness within an inch of its life. Though you could imagine if he let it grow out that it would suit his angular face far better. If his voice wasn’t as gentle as it was, then his height would surely make him quite intimidating, though you found yourself unafraid of the newcomer. “I’m sorry Mister, but I have a strict no kicking stranger’s cars policy. You’ll just have to kick Roger’s car yourself.” You shrug, as Bree grins beside you.

Bree rests her hand on your shoulder in a comforting manner, before directing her eyes on the man as well. “Is there any particular reason as to why Roger’s car should be the victim of such abuse?”

 

 

“Well, not to offend you both. But Roger is the reason as to why your band has the next few weeks booked to play here, instead of us.” He sighs, a half smile tugging at his lips. He looks far too exhausted to be out on a Friday night, stress from final exams likely putting a large amount of pressure on him, as with most of the other pub patrons. “He decided not to show up for a few of our gigs last month. The manager told us, that unless we could guarantee the whole band would be there, then he couldn’t book us anymore. Unsurprisingly, we couldn’t promise Roger’s being there, so our booking got cut.”

Tough blow you think to yourself, as you allow your arms to fall to your sides, fishing out your pack of smokes from your back pocket, retrieving one and sitting it between your lips, Bree passes you her lighter and, you inhale deeply as the flame kisses the end.  “Sorry to hear that, but if it’s any consolation, I think we’re about to be out of luck soon too. Our lead guitarist is MIA.”  You tap the ash off the end of your cigarette, watching it fall to the gravel beneath you. “What’s your band called? We tend to know most of the local university acts, I’m surprised we haven’t seen you around before.”

“Currently, we’re known as smile. Though there’s been talks of changing it to Queen. That is if Freddie has anything to say about it. I’m Brian by the way, my mother would have my head if she knew I didn’t introduce myself sooner!”

“Well Brian, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. But I really must get back to what I was doing and plotting our band mates murder.” You say lightly, gesturing to the car behind you.

Bree scowls at you, punching your shoulder lightly. “Whoa now, I said it was fine for you to kick things, not to murder people!”

“Sorry, it’s a fine line. Guess I crossed it.” You shrug, though you grin over at her, watching as she rolls her eyes at your antics.

“Any chance I could get your names before I leave? You know, so I can keep an eye out for your band?” Brian asks, a slight nervous lilt to his voice.

You lift a quizzical eyebrow up at him, he seemed harmless enough, and from the sounds of things he understood your frustration on difficult band members. “I’m Y/N, and this is Bree. The band’s called, the midnight librarians.”  You offer with a small smile.

“That’s bloody awesome.” Brian chuckles, as he turns on his heel and heads back towards the pub, stopping as he reaches the door. “I hope to see you around Y/N….” He smiles, before heading back inside.

“You have to marry him!” Bree declares, throwing her arm across your shoulder, as she steals the smoke from your lips, taking a long drag. “He’s gorgeous, plays in a band, lives somewhere near us. He’s perfect!”

“I like the fact that the only things on your check list to get married, are looks, job, and location… Besides, I’m busy plotting the perfect murder here. I can’t very well start planning a wedding.” You smirk, as Bree finishes off your cigarette, stamping out the butt on the ground.  “Really though, what are we going to do tonight? Do we go on, just the two of us? Or do we just pack up and leave?”

Bree sighs deeply, running a hand across her forehead as she mulls over your words. “I suppose we could see how we go with just us?” She begins, before being cut off, once again by the back door slamming open.

“So sorry to intrude my darlings! But my dear Brian here,” The stranger takes a moment to gesture behind him, just as Brian emerges from the door, waving shyly. “Was just mentioning the predicament you have found yourselves in, and of course he didn’t think about mentioning it at the time, but he is our lead guitarist. A rather good one at that if I do say so myself. Perhaps he could help you out tonight?” The young man flounces around before both of you, his long hair bouncing around as he takes long strides. There’s an air of theatrics around him, and you can only imagine they type of stage presence he would have. “I’m Freddie, lead singing of Queen. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”  He smiles, bowing before the two of you.

“Oh, so the name change is official is it?” Brian chuckles, as he stands beside his bandmate, arms folding across his chest.

“Of course, it’s official, it’s perfectly outrages! Just like me!” Freddie decides, with a voice of finality.

You look at Bree, who has a matching look of unsureness etched across her features. “Not to be ungrateful, but how would Brian be able to help us? If you mean for him to play along side us, while the offer is very kind, he doesn’t know any of our songs. He’s never even heard of us before. He wouldn’t be able to keep up.” Bree offers with a shrug, watching as Freddie comes to a complete stand still in front of you both.

Freddie frowns deeply, looking between the two of you, and back at Brian, the cogs in his brain working on overdrive. “I’m sorry, what did you just say my dear?”

Bree blinks slowly over at Freddie, taking in his look of pure confusion. “I said that Brian doesn’t know our band or music.” She begins, before being cut off by a loud laugh from Freddie.

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard! Brian knows all about the midnight librarians, he’s been following your band for months now! He was the one who recommended your band to the manager, when he said he needed to replace us!” Freddie laughs, wiping a fake tear away from the corner of his eye.

You mouth drops at this revelation, turning your attention entirely on Brian now. “So, you do know us then?” You grin, resting your hands on your hips. Brian has the good decency to blush at having been called out.

“I saw you putting up flyers for the band a little while ago, I like to hear new music.” He shrugs lightly, lowering himself down to sit on one of the stairs bellow the backstage door. “I decided to check you guys out at one of your gigs, thought you sounded pretty damned good, and have been keeping an eye out for your other shows.”

“If by keeping an eye out, you mean going to every bloody show and dragging us along too!” Freddie yells across the parking lot. “No offence my dears, your music is wonderful!”

You stand over Brian now, resting your hip against the banister of the stairs. “So, you’ve been stalking us, have you?”

“If by stalking you mean going to your gigs like any other university student. Then yes, I’ve been stalking you.”

“He also said something about having a class with Y/N!” Freddie calls once again, causing Bree to laugh hysterically, and Brian to groan.

You can’t help but laugh, the poor man was being picked on mercilessly, and you loved it! “So, should I give you my bank details now or later?”

Brian groans, resting his head in his hands, his elbows propped up on his bony knees. “I swear I’m not a creep! It’s honestly just a coincidence we share a class. It’s only one as far as I’m aware, and I swear I don’t know anything else about you!” Brian pleads with you.

You grin down at him, before taking a seat beside him on the step. “Don’t stress Brian, I’m honestly quite flattered that you take the time out of your life to come and see us perform.”

“He also knows your favourite colour, your middle name, your dorm number, and where you like to go after class to get a coffee!” Freddie sings, as he leans against Bree’s car beside her, resting against the bonnet.

Brian glares across at his friend, Freddie waving merrily at him with a grin. “I can assure you, I know none of the above.”

“That’s a relief. If you did, I would have to call the police, I think! I’m sure they would have some questions for you.” You smirk, as you lean your forearms against your knees. “Do you think you would be able to play with us? I know it’s a huge ask, and from the looks of things, it wasn’t your idea. But you might very well be our only hope.”

Brian watches you intently, mulling over his next words. “I may not be perfect, but I can try my hardest. It won’t be exactly how it usually sounds, but I’m pretty good at picking things up on the fly.”

You nod in agreement, facing Bree across the way. “Alright Bree, we need to make a decision now, before we’re told to leave. Do we try our best with just us, accept Brian’s offer, or just call it quits?”

Neither of you want to let this night end badly, so the option of packing up and leaving is not your first preference.  Besides, if you do leave now, you won’t get paid, and that really isn’t ideal. “If Brian thinks he can match us, then he’s in!” Bree finally answers, and you grin at her.

“Well Brian, it looks like you’ve got yourself a gig tonight. We’ve got the guitar all tuned up and ready to go, so she’s all yours.” You smile, as he stands up, reaching a hand down to you and pulling you up after him.

“Now just know this, lovely ladies, you cannot keep him! He’s my guitarist, and we will need him back eventually.” Freddie warns, a playfully serious look on his face, as the four of you make your way back inside of the pub.

“You’d better watch out Fred, I might like performing with them better than you lot. Might find yourself in the market for a new guitarist!” Brian smirks, as the three of you make your way onstage.

“Don’t you dare! We’re already struggling to find a bassist, don’t make us have to find a lead guitarist too!” Freddie cries dramatically from the wings of the stage. You only just manage to hear him from the noise of the audience, but you all get the general idea of what he’s saying.

As Freddie turns to leave, a young man walks up to him, a friendly smile plastered on his face, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he waves. “Hi, I’m John Deacon, I play bass.”

“You’re hired!” Freddie shrieks, as he grabs the young man’s wrist, and drags him towards the bar, leaving Brian to set up with his new friends.

 

 

The three of you get yourself ready quickly, everything having already been set up by you and Bree earlier in the evening. Brian takes a few moments to get the feel for the new guitar, though he quickly picks it up, and within minutes the three of you are ready to perform. “Alright Brian, just follow on as best you can! We can do this!” You grin, trying desperately to stay positive, despite the less than ideal situation you had found yourselves in. “One… Two… Three!” You cry, counting the band in, as you crash down on the drums, Bree chiming in on the bass and Brian following with a riff which is relatively close to what it should be. Bree belts out the lyrics you had worked hours on creating, as you sing along behind your drum kit, throwing your heart and soul into this set.

It takes a little while before the audience warms up to you, though soon enough everyone is moving along to the music, feeling the rhythm course through them. You grin happily, rather impressed with how quickly Brian had picked up on his role in the band, even if he was just a temporary stand in, you didn’t half mind performing with him. Somehow, he kept finding his way over to your drum kit, grinning at you as you pounded out the rhythm to your current song. Occasionally he would play it up for the audience, playing directly for them when a solo came up, but he would instantly find his way back to you. You play for a solid hour and a half, before you all decide it’s due time you take a much-needed beer break. “Thank everyone, we’ve been the midnight librarians, with special guest Brian May on guitar. We’ll be back soon!” Bree calls out through the microphone, as you all climb off stage, heading straight for the bar.

As you reach the bar, you spot Freddie speaking with two other men, one with flowing blonde locks and piercing blue eyes, the other a brunette, with a permanently cheerful expression etched upon his face. “You were wonderful darling’s! Truly wonderful!” Freddie grins, as he hands you and Bree each a beer, both of you taking large gulps instantly, you were parched, and the cold drink was ever so soothing. “Brian, come meet John, we’ll be auditioning him this week, he says he plays bass.”

“Nice to meet you.” Brian grins, shaking hands with the younger man.

The blonde man, looks over at you and Bree, grinning at the two of you. “You look pretty good out there, don’t sound half bad either.” He smirks, lifting his beer bottle to his lips and taking a drink. You glare at him, not at all liking how cocky he sounded. Though Bree smiles, a faint blush covering her cheeks.

“Thank you, I’m Bree, this is Y/N.” She offers the stranger, and you can’t resist rolling your eyes. Trust Bree to flirt with the first blonde haired, blue eyed floozy she meets at a pub.

“Roger Taylor, at your service.” The blonde grins, as he pushes past Freddie and John, to stand in between you and Bree.

Pursing your lips, you step aside, not really wanting to stand so close to the flirt fest that was occurring before you. “Is he always like this?” You ask, turning your attention to Brian, who could only chuckle in response.

“Just wait until he really gets started, he knows every pick-up line there is.” Freddie sighs, shaking his head in exasperation.

“Sounds like they’ll be perfect for each other then.” You mutter, noticing as Roger wraps his arm around Bree’s waist, stepping her away from the group. “Oi, blondie! We need her back in twenty!” You shout at them. Roger waves you off, while Bree nods at you in understanding. “Why do I get the nasty feeling we won’t be seeing her again tonight?”

Brian leans back against the bar, folding his arms over his chest loosely. “Oh no, he’ll bring her back as promised. Just not necessarily in the designated time period.”

“That really isn’t very reassuring Brian. Just want you to know that.” You grumble, shooting a glare over to the taller man.  You look over to the young man stood beside Freddie and offer him a smile. “Hey there, John was it? I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

John grins back at you, a small gap between his two front teeth prominent as he looks at you. “Nice to meet you too. You three really are quite good out there! Mind me asking what happened to your regular guitarist?”

“Nothing that can be proven.” You mutter darkly, before laughing. “We’re currently going with, either dead or maimed. But until further news, we’re just speculating.”

John blinks at you, a look of shock and surprise written across his face. “Are you always this dark?” He asks, taking a swig from his beer. He looks too young to be drinking, and you would wager a guess on Freddie having bought the young man the drink.

“It’s one of my many charms, I’m able to be as dark and depressing as I would like, and still get away with it, because I’m cute as a button.”

“Can’t argue with the logic.” Brian chuckles from beside you, and you grin over at him, accepting the full beer he held out to you.

“Shouldn’t I be buying you drinks? Seeing as you rescued us from an impending doom?” You ask, though eagerly take another sip from the cold bottle.

Brian takes a moment to mull over you question. “You’re right, that’ll be 40p.” He grins, holding his hand out, palm up awaiting his payment. “Nah, how about you buy the next round?”

“I think I can mange that.” You grin, as you lean against the bar beside him. The night carries on with you discussing the latest albums with Brian, Freddie and John. What was supposed to be only a thirty-minute break, ended up being closer to an hour by the time Bree and Roger returned. Both looked a little bit worse for wear, hair in tangles, and Bree’s lipstick smeared across Roger’s lips and neck. No one mentions a thing though, you’re just thankful she had returned to finish the set.

The three of you kick off once more, throwing yourselves into the music, just as the audience did too.  You finished off with a song which involved a type of audience participation, asking everyone to clap along to the chorus. It always sounded fantastic when an entire pub full of people were clapping in time to your drum beat, with just Bree’s vocals accompanying you. Brian watched from the side, grinning as he allowed the two of you to finish the song. He would be lying if he said he paid any attention to anyone but you in that moment.

After another few rounds at the bar, the crowd had dwindled dramatically, leaving just a dull roar over the jukebox, now playing the hits of the Beatles. You and Bree make your way back onto the stage, starting to pack up your instruments, dreading having to fit your entire drum kit back into Bree’s station wagon. It was a tight squeeze, yet somehow you managed to make it work. Brian reappeared beside you, grin as you look at him in surprise. “Let me give you a hand.” He offers gently.

 

 

You’re hardly able to say no, especially seeing as he had already picked up your bass drum and was walking with it towards the backstage exit. Grabbing your snare drum, you follow him out, ignoring Bree’s wolf whistle as she watches how quickly you run to catch up with him. You kick open the door, just as Brian reaches the car, carefully sliding the large drum into the back seat through the boot. “Thanks for your help, but you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I’ve loaded up my drums into this car more times than I can count.” You offer, as you come up behind him, waiting for him to move out of the way so you can slide the next piece of kit into the car.

“Is that your way of telling me I’ve over stayed my welcome?” Brian grins, turning to look down at you, as you move up next to him, with the next piece of the drum kit.

“What? No! That isn’t what I meant at all!” You gasp out. “I just meant, that you’ve already helped out so much tonight, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do more.” You stammer, looking anywhere but his eyes, which were focused intently on you.

“I’m not still here out of obligation. I’m here because I actually rather enjoy spending time with you, and I’m trying to pluck up the courage to ask you out on a date.” He smiles, a light blush colouring he cheeks.

You bite down on your bottom lip, before finally looking up at him, your eyes meeting instantly. Standing on your toes, you press a soft kiss against his lips, watching as his eyes flutter closed. It only lasts for a moment, as you’re soon interrupted by Freddie talking obnoxiously loudly with John. “And over there you’ll see Roger’s van, which is how we get around to all of our gigs. And if you look to your left, you will see our guitarist snogging the living daylights out of his new, special friend.”

Brian pulls away, resting his forehead against yours as he groans. “Trust Freddie to ruin the moment.”

“And who said this was going to go any further, hm?” You laugh, reaching forwards to rest your hand against his shoulder, rubbing small circles against it with your thumb.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that!” He quickly defends, though soon notices the playful look on your face. “I’m going to have to get used to sarcasm with you, aren’t I?”

You nod eagerly, grinning up at him. “You would be correct in thinking so!” Slowly you step away from Brian, removing your hand from his shoulder as you do so. “So, how about dinner on Tuesday?”

Brian smiles, running a hand through his hair as he watches you walk backwards away from him and the car. “Tuesday sounds wonderful.”

“Great! You can pick me up at seven!” You call over you shoulder, as you turn on your heel as skip up the stairs to the door once again, disappearing behind it.

“Wait!” Brian calls out, just before the door shuts. You pop your head back out, regarding him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll need your address to be able to pick you up!”

You purse your lips for a moment, before laughing. “According to Freddie, you already know where I live!”

“You know for a fact that I don’t!” Brian protests, his hands falling to his side I defeat, as Freddie laugh maniacally from Roger’s van.

“Well Brian, that sounds like a problem you’ll have to figure out! See you Tuesday!” You call merrily, as the door shuts behind you with a sense of finality, leaving Brian stood in the carpark, glaring daggers at the lead singer.


	2. Joining an Amish community?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello there, long time no see!  
> I'm not 100% sure how I feel about this chapter. I started off really excited about it, and I'm not sure if it's because I've read over it a hundred times that i'm no longer thrilled about it, or if really ins't that good?  
> So fingers crossed its option A and not B!
> 
> I decided to turn this one shot into a multi chaptered fic, however I'm not too sure where exactly I'm going with it. So please bare with me, and if you have any suggestions please let me know! (keep in mind, because I don't have an exact game plan, I'm unsure how often I will be updating!"
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy this, and I apologise now for the shameless use of memes in this one, I blame my house mate, who kept quoting things she found on tumblr!
> 
> Peace and love <3

“Help!”

“You need somebody?”

“Yes, help me Roger!”

“Oh, so not just anybody?”

“Help, you know I need someone!” Brian stands from his cross-legged position by the coffee table in his apartment, glaring at his blonde housemate. Roger can’t help but grin at the tall man before him. “I swear to God, if you continue quoting the Beatles, I will walk out of this apartment.

“This is your apartment though?”

“Yeah, well, that’s how annoying you’re being!” Brian groans, his frustration obvious across his features.

Roger raises a quizzical eyebrow, as he makes himself more comfortable on the old, patchwork sofa. “Alright, talk to me Bri.”

Brian rests his hands on his hips, looking down at Roger. “I’ve been scouring the phonebook for over an hour now, and I think I’ve narrowed it down to two Y/N Y/L/N’s. I just don’t know which one to go with. What if I turn up to the wrong doorstep? And then because I’m late in getting to the other address, which is where Y/N actually lives, she thinks I’ve stood her up, and then won’t go out with me!”

Roger blinks up at Brian, biting down on his bottom lip. “So, show up to the other address first so you won’t be late?”

There’s a moment of silence, before Brian can comprehend the amount of stupidity that was the sentence Roger had just uttered. “I will murder you, and make it look like an accident!” Brian roars, lunging for the thick phone book which he had left on the coffee table, and aiming it at Roger.

“Mercy! Please, have mercy!” Roger laughs, scrambling off the sofa, his sock clad feet slipping against the recently waxed floors, as he attempts to make a hasty get away.

Brian makes chase, still wielding the phone book in his left hand, as Freddie enters the apartment John following close behind. Both men stand in the doorway, heads tilted to the side, as their eyes follow the two men around the small room. “All that’s missing is the Benny Hill theme…”  
John murmurs to Freddie, who instantly grins, before humming the iconic tune.

The chase ends with Brian smacking the book against Roger, who clasps his palm over his now throbbing shoulder. He had never been smacked by a book before, and was entirely unsure whether it would bruise or not. If it did bruise, he wouldn’t be wearing his favourite black vest for their gig next week. The item of clothing showed off far too much upper arm to wear when sporting a massive bruise.  
“Ladies, ladies, please. What is this all about?” Freddie finally asks, as he and John fully enter the apartment. Despite having only met on the weekend, John had somehow found himself spending almost every day with Freddie, Brian and Roger. They had accepted him into their band of misfits, and had all grown used to Freddie walking in with John in tow.

 

Brian shoots one final glare at Roger, before turning his attention to his fellow housemate, and the new bassist. Just as he is about to answer, Roger butts in, grinning merrily. “Brian here doesn’t know which house to pick his lady love up from tonight.”  
Hy says in a sing-songy voice.

“Yes, and whose fault is that? Remind me again, who was it who told Y/N that I knew where she lived?” Brian grumbles, folding his arms across his chest.

Freddie can’t help but laugh, a deep and melodic sound which emanated directly from his chest.  The glare which Brian shot at him however, soon cut his laughter short. “I’m sorry Brian, I truly am, but it was just so much fun picking on you!”

“Yes, well now because of your little joke, I have no idea what I’m going to do!”

This time, it’s John who speaks up, stepping forwards so he was in the centre of their odd little circle. He reaches into his back pocket, producing a folded napkin, carefully unravelling it so it lay smooth in his palm. “It would probably be best if you follow these directions. Should take you about twenty minutes to get there, so you may want to get ready now.” 

Three sets of eyes stare at the grinning bassist, though none seem to know quite what to say. “So, let me get this right, you don’t have the actual address written down, instead you have directions? How did you get those!”  
Brian sighs, as he takes the napkin from John’s outstretch hand.

“I have my ways Brian.”

Freddie squeals in delight, wrapping his arm over John’s shoulders in a side hug. “Oh, you wicked man! Dastardly Deacon I think we shall call you!”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit of a mouthful?” Brian calls over his shoulder, as he makes his way into the bathroom.

“How about Dastardly Deaks?” Roger suggests, as he collapses back on the sofa, slipping a fresh cigarette between his lips.

Freddie pouts as he mulls over the name suggestion, resting his index finger over his chin. “Dastardly Deaky?”

“We could lose the Dastardly part, and just go with Deaky?” John offers with a shrug. Roger and Freddie look between each other, grinning happily.

“Deaky it is! Welcome to the band Deaky!” Freddie cheers, as he saunters over to Roger, stealing one of his cigarettes.  Rogers bats his hand against Freddie’s in an attempt to keep him away from his pack of smokes, only for Freddie to raise an eyebrow in challenge up at him.

“Roger, don’t you go forgetting who paid for this pack.” Freddie warns. Roger quickly removes his hand, and opts for sulking instead.

“No offence Deaky, but technically he’s not in the band yet! We haven’t auditioned him yet!” Brian calls, his voice echoing throughout the tiled bathroom.

“Oh, he auditioned for me this morning! I decided he could be our new bassist.” Freddie smirks, lighting up his smoke.

Roger sighs, a pained expression crossing his face. “I’m about to channel my inner Brian here, but Fred, that sort of thing should be a group decision. Not that we don’t want you in the band Deaky, we love you.”

“Listen, I’ve known Deaky for only a few days, but if anything were to happen to him, I would kill whoever hurt him, and then myself.”  Freddie declares dramatically, throwing the pack of smokes and a lighter to the bassist.

Brian emerges from the bathroom, dressed in a fresh pair of jeans, and a clean shirt, a leather jacket draped over his shoulder. “Rog, I’m borrowing your jacket.” He calls, the blonde shrugging in response.

Freddie mutters under his breath as his eyes travel from Brian’s head, to toes, his eyes growing dark at the footwear his friend had chosen. “I swear to God Brian, if you are wearing clogs on a first date, I will kick you out of this band.”   
The three men had made themselves comfortable around the living room, with Roger sprawled out on the sofa once again, Freddie sitting cross-legged on the floor, with his back leaning against an old, and fraying armchair where Deaky was laying, with his legs dangling over the arm.

“What is wrong with clogs? They’re comfortable, and practical!” Brian defends.

“Practical? In what way? In case you get lost in an Amish village?!” Freddie shrieks. Deaky can’t help but laugh, the image of Brian attempting to churn butter, one that was unlikely to leave his mind anytime soon.

Brian simply shrugs, as he slips his wallet into his back pocket, slipping the borrowed jacket on, despite the warm weather. “Well, I suppose if I go missing, then you had better be sure to check all the nearby Amish communities just in case.”

“I think I heard about one near Wales, I’ll check there first!” Roger offers, waving him goodbye with a childlike grin.   
Brian wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or frightened that Roger would be the one to come looking for him if he didn’t return. Knowing how scatter brained the blonde could be, it would likely be at least four months before he realised Brian had never returned home.

“What time are you meeting up with Bree?” Brian asked, as he opened the front door, turning to his friend.

“Honestly, I don’t quite remember. I think we agreed around nine?”

“Do you have any idea where you’re meeting her?” Deaky smirked, shaking his head to remove a few stray strands of hair from his eyes.

“It was either the wobbly Elephant down the road, or maybe I told her to just come straight here. I can’t remember if we wanted to get drinks first or not.” Roger shrugged, and Brian sighed for what felt like the millionth time that afternoon.

“Welcome to the family Deaky, you’ll get used to Rog eventually.” Brian half smiled, before making his way out to the streets of London.

                                                                                                         

                                                                                                                    ********

 

 You scowled at your closet, arms folded across your chest, willing an outfit to jump out at you. It shouldn’t be this hard, you had been on dates before, but you had never encountered this much difficulty in picking something to wear! You could almost guarantee that Bree wasn’t having anywhere near as much trouble as you were, granted though, from what you had picked up on her talking about her date with Roger, ‘date’ was a rather loose term. Most likely it wouldn’t matter what she wore, it wouldn’t be staying on for long.   
“Just reassure me one more time that tonight isn’t a double date!” You called out to Bree, who from what you had last seen of her, was currently collapsed on the sofa in your lounge room, counting how many empty beer cans were scattered around your shared apartment.

You could practically hear her roll her eyes at your question; you had asked the same thing at least five times today. “No it isn’t a double date. You and Brian are going out for dinner, and Roger is showing me his bass drum.”

“That’s code for something, I’m sure of it.”

“I would bloody well hope so. I did not get all dressed up, just for him to show me his drum set! I can look at your drums any time I want!”

This time, it’s your turn to roll your eyes, smirking at her clear desire of what her night will entail.  “Here, what do you think of this one?”  
You ask, stepping out of your bedroom, holding up a denim jumpsuit, the sleeves covered half of your bicep, with a collar, and a zipper down to the waist band, and wide bellbottoms. As you presented the garment, you held up a bright red belt, it was wide with a circular buckle in the centre, and a perfect accompaniment to your overall outfit.

“Oh! Yes, that is fantastic! But what shoes?” Bree grins, pressing a fresh cigarette to her red painted lips, breathing inwards as she lit the end. “Wait, I have the perfect shoes!” She cries out, leaping off the sofa and hurrying to her bedroom.   
You lean against the arm of the sofa, folding your clothes over your forearms, as you await Bree’s return.   
“Here they are, these will be perfect!”  
Bree skips out of her room, dangling a pair of bright red blogs, the exact same colour as your belt, swinging them in front of you.

“I knew there was a reason you were my best friend!” You grin, as you take the shoes from her outstretched hand.

“Because I’m fabulously amazing, and the best singer in the entire world?”

“Sure, that’s why. It’s definitely not because we wear the same size shoe!”

“That had better not be the only reason why!”

“Love you Bree, thanks for the shoes!” You chuckle, making your way back into your room to get yourself ready for your date.  
You slip into the jumpsuit, sliding the zipper up halfway, revealing a decent amount of cleavage, before wrapping the belt around your waist, buckling it up so it sat neatly around your waist. After stepping into the clogs, you turn to look in the mirror, grinning at your reflection. “Not too shabby.”  You think aloud, before running your fingers through your hair, loosening the strands up so they fall around your face in a very Farrah Fawcett manner.

 

“Lipstick or no?” You call out once again, as you held the black tube between our fingers. The lipstick you had selected was a nude shade, one that you and Bree had spent hours selecting a few months ago, you had been looking for the perfect shade to match your skin, and this was the first time you were considering wearing it.

“Depends on what colour? You know I’ll suggest a red lip, but that’s just who I am!”

“I think if I have red shoes, belt and lips then it might be a bit much, don’t you?”

You can hear Bree grumbling, though you can’t quite make out the words, most likely she’s upset about your choice to go against her suggestion.  
You swipe on the lipstick with expert precision, touching up the edges with a tissue so there were no flaws.   
Just as you finish, a sharp knock on the front door echoes throughout the apartment, and you can feel your heartbeat pick up pace, hammering against your chest.

“I’m pretty sure that will be for you.” Bree grins, as you make your way past her, she hadn’t made any move to get up and open the door, not that you had expected her to.

“Brian, hi! Glad you found the place ok!” You smile, as you swing the door open, revealing the handsomely tall guitarist. You wave Brian inside, as you step away from the door, and further into your apartment.   
“I was worried you might get lost, or that John might forget to give you the napkin.”

“Ah, so that’s where he got the directions. He refused to explain where the napkin had come from. It was rather creepy actually, I thought perhaps he had been stalking you.”  
Brian grins, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

You take the moment that follows to allow your eyes to travel over his body, he looks incredible, though you doubt you would be complaining if he had shown up wearing a trash bag. Your eyes fall to his feet, and your face lights up. There, on his feet are a pair of pristine white clogs.  
Unaware t you, Brian had spent the same moment to look you over also, and he liked what he saw. The icing on the cake, however, was your choice in footwear.

“Are you wearing clogs?” You both ask simultaneously, laughing as you look at each other.

“They’re perfect for every situation, comfortable and practical!” You smile, as you collect your small, brown leather handbag from the kitchen counter, slipping it over your shoulder.

“I said pretty much the exact same thing to Freddie earlier today.”

“That settles it then.”

“settles what?”

“Great minds think alike!” You smile, as you link your arm through Brian’s, leading him out of the apartment. “Have a nice night Bree!”

Bree doesn’t have a chance to reply before the front door closes behind the two of you, and she finds herself unable to keep the grins off her lips.  
“They’re perfect for each other. The bridesmaids and groomsmen will all be forced to wear matching clogs.”


	3. Kick him out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here we are again, turns out the creativity bug bit me, and I wrote this within two hours!  
> I really love this chapter, and am super happy with how it turned out!  
> Once again, please excuse the timeline, it 100000% is not how things happened, but I feel like it makes for a good story!  
> I would really love to hear what you all think of how this story is going so far, and as alwasyif you have any ideas or requests, feel free to comment!  
> Peace and Love <3

“I just don’t understand how he can miss so many practises, and yet Bree won’t agree with me, and kick him out of the band?” You mutter, sitting behind Roger’s vacant drum set. Brian had invited you to Queen’s band rehearsal, with the promise of dinner afterwards. He had been raving about a small fish and chip shop, which he had been going to since he was a child. Once you had mentioned you had never been there, he had done everything in his power to ensure you would go, this had meant cancelling Friday night scrabble with the band, much to Freddie’s anger. Freddie was convinced the only reason why Brian had, _conveniently,_ double booked his Friday night was because Brian knew he would never be able to beat his triple word score for ‘Innuendo’ which had won him the game only last week.  
You kick the bass drum pedal twice, in an attempt to release your frustrations, though it does little to help. “I hate to be the barer of bad news Y/N, but didn’t Jake create the Midnight Librarians? Maybe Bree is worried about trying to kick him out of his own band?”  
Brian suggests, strumming a few chords on his guitar, making sure she was perfectly tuned, as always.

“Well, I mean yeah, he did, but, but… Why should that matter?”

“Because technically, if you were to kick him out of the band that _he_ created, any money you get from the gigs you guys do, would go straight to him. If you signed any sort of contract or anything, saying you agree to be in the band with him.”

“Fuck, there was a contract type thing. Is it binding if it was written on greasy, fish and chip paper?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s still binding.”

“You’re killing me Brian! Aren’t boyfriends supposed to be supportive? Not to find flaws in my wonderfully thought out plans!”

Brian rolls his eyes, resting the Red Special down on his guitar stand. “Your wonderful plan was to stop playing in the middle of your next gig, walk up to him with a beer in hand, shout into the microphone, ‘Get the fuck off stage Jake, you’re fired.’, then pour the beer on his head.”

“And I would have gotten away with it too, if it hadn’t been for you meddling kids!” You smirk, as you swivel around in circles on the drum stool. Brian was right, you ran the risk of losing all the extra cash you were making with your gigs this summer. Granted it wasn’t your only income, but the café you worked at had been giving you less and less shifts this past month, and with college about to go back, you had to save as much as you could!

“Plus, if he came up with the name, then he could make it so you were no longer able to use it…”

“Aha! Saved! I came up with the Midnight Librarians!”

Brian makes his way over to you,  his tall frame looming over you as you grin up at him, head tilted all the way back just to see him, bloody hell Roger had this stool set low!  
“Has he really missed that many rehearsals?

You frown, trying to figure out when the last time Jake had shown up for practise had actually been. Granted, he had shown up for the all your other gigs so far, ever since that first night where you had met Brian. So that was better than nothing…  
“I don’t think we’ve rehearsed with him in close to two months. I mean, he came to rehearsal once, drunk as a skunk. Spent half an hour wondering around my apartment, searching for paracetamol, threw my pack of smokes out of the window, then collapsed in the bath and slept. That was a, _productive_ , afternoon.”

Brian chuckles, resting a hand on your shoulder gently, rubbing soothing circles over your shirt. “Well, it sounds to me like you don’t really have grounds to kick him out, especially not without Bree’s agreement. He’s been coming to the gigs at least, I won’t comment on how well he sounds, but at least he’s been there. That makes it a little bit tricky to kick him out on the grounds of him not showing up…”

The door to the practise room swings open, just as you pout up at Brian, a warm breeze filling the small space. “Afternoon...” Roger smirks, strutting in, glancing over at Brian and your close proximity.  “I see you’ve been warming the seat for me, why thank you Y/N.” Brian rolls his eyes at the leering tone in the drummers voice, and you simply shake your head, pressing your lips against Brian’s when he leans down to meet yours.

Freddie bursts through the door next, the door nearly hitting poor Deaky in the face, as he lets it swing shut behind him. “Shit! Deaky I’m sorry, I thought you were further behind me than that!” Freddie yelps, as Deaky opens the door slowly, a dazed look across his face

“My life just flashed before my eyes…” He mumbles, blinking slowly. Roger howls in laughter at Deaky’s melodramatic response, Brian and you grinning from ear to ear.

Once Frddie has checked over John, making sure he hadn’t actually hurt his favourite bassist, you leap up from the stool, gently pushing Brian away from you in your haste. “Thank god, she moved!” Roger smirks, skipping over to the vacated seat, twirling his drumstick in his right hand once seated.

“Deaky help me! Brian is trying to use logic on me again!” You giggle, racing up to the young man, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.  
Over the past month and a bit, not only had you grown exceptionally close with Brian, you had come to know the other band members quite well also, with Deaky well on his way to being one of your closest friends.

“Better be careful there Bri, looks like Deaky is about to run off with your woman.” Freddie grins, brushing his long, dark hair back behind his shoulder, and gliding past the two of you, as you hug.

Deaky chuckles, as you releases his arms from around you, while you do the same, still standing close to each other.  
“You’re right Fred, Deaky and I are going to run off and elope. Sorry Brian, Deaky has won my heart!”

“Typically people don’t warn others about when they are going to run off and elope, they just sort of, do it…” Brian shrugs, a smile paying across his lips, as he fishes his sixpence coin from his back pocket, holding it carefully between his ling fingers.

“See what I mean! He keeps using logic! I can’t take it any longer!” You cry dramatically, fanning your hand in front of your eyes as if pretending to fight off tears.

“You know, he is right…” Deaky half smirks, and your eyes grow wide in their sockets.

“Are you on his side now? I can’t have both of you using logic against me, that’s just not fair!” You cry, stepping away from Deaky, pressing your back up against the door, in an excellent imitation of a frightened cat.

“If you want someone illogical, Roger may be your best bet.” Brian grins, ducking out of the way of Roger’s expertly aimed drumstick. The wooden stick barely missing Brian’s wild mane of curls as it flies through the air, before landing neatly by your feet.

“I am not illogical! And I don’t want to date Y/N!” Roger grumbles, scowling at the tall guitarist to his left, bitter at his missed shot at his head.

You glare at Roger, before crouching down and picking up the lonely drumstick. “This is mine now.” You declare triumphantly, as you slip it into your front pocket. If Roger didn’t want to date you, then there was no chance in hell he would grab for the drumstick with where it was now. “What do you mean you won’t date me Rog? I’m a catch!”  
You laugh, sticking your tongue out at the grumbling blonde.

“Wouldn’t Bree complain if you and I started dating? Wouldn’t Brian?” He countered, looking down sadly at his lonely drumstick.

“I doubt Bree would care, and Brian is the one who suggested it!”

“Alright fine, how about I date you, and Brian can date Bree?”

“But that leaves Freddie and Deaky left out! Let’s just swap entirely! Roger, you and I are together. Brian you get Bree, Deaky you and Mary are a couple now, and Freddie you get Veronica!” You can’t help but laugh at the shocked expression on everyone bar Roger’s face. None of the men seem to know how to respond to what you had just decided upon.  
“Come on lads, it won’t be that bad! Think of all the cute quadruple dates we could go on!”

“I’m suddenly really regretting starting this who conversation.” Brian shudders, lifting an eyebrow at where you had stored Roger’s drumstick.

“Besides, Mary has already told me that if she and I weren’t dating, then she would be all over Brian again. She once said something about missing his freakish tallishness. Though at the time she was attempting to reach something in the top shelf of the pantry.” Freddie chimes in.

“To be fair, I too miss Brian’s freakish tallishness when he isn’t around, and I don’t feel like climbing on a stool to reach what I want.” Deaky smirks, as he makes his way over to where he had left his bass, clicking open the latches on the case.

“Hey, Brian..” Roger half whispers, half shouts, causing the taller man to turn on his heel, heading towards his friend. Roger beckons him closer with a few frantic hand gestures, and Brian leans down, so Roger can whisper in his ear.  
You watch the two exchange their whispered conversation, eye narrowing into slits as the two occasionally peer over their shoulders to look at you. You’re not sure whether to be nervous or annoyed at the secrecy.

“Thanks Rog, I’ll keep that in mind.” Brian smiles, as he steps away from him, before heading over to you, both hands nestled in front pockets, causing his shoulders to hunch as he walks.

 

Roger busies himself with ensuring his drum kit is still perfectly set up, while Freddie and Deaky discuss what their new set list should be for their first gig as a new band.  
“May I help you, May?” You smirk, looking up at Brian as he leans his shoulder against the wall beside you, entwining his fingers between yours.

“Just wanted to finish what we started, before we were so rudely interrupted.” He breaths out, before leaning down and capturing your lips with his. You smile against the kiss, pressing your body closer to his, as he wraps his arms around you waist, yours falling over his shoulders. You allow your eyes to flutter shut, the warm, safe feeling that came from being in Brian’s embrace, wrapping around you like a woollen blanket.  
That feeling however, came crashing down around you, when you felt Brian’s hand move from where it had been resting on your left hip. Before you have time to process what he’s doing, his fingers have slipped into your left pocket, wrapped around the stolen drumstick, and pulled it free.

You pull away from his lips, playfully glaring up at him, Brian had just accomplished the ultimate betrayal. “Sorry luv, we can’t have a drummer with only one drumstick.”  
He teases, brushing his lips across yours one last time.

“How about we get him a set of bongos’ instead? That way he won’t need drumsticks at all!” You suggest, grinning wickedly at the idea. You wonder what would happen if Roger were to walk into the rehearsal room one day, and find his drums gone, and bongos’ in their place. You would have to talk to Freddie about orchestrating that little idea.

Brian throws the drumstick towards Roger, the wooden piece being aimed with far less precision than Roger had initially thrown it with/ “Thanks mate, you’re the best!”  
Brian waves him off, before giving your hand one final squeeze, as Freddie clears his throat.

“Deaky and I have come up with a basic outline for our new set list, let’s see how far we can get through it this afternoon…” Freddie begins, before Brian raises his hand, something all the band had begun doing when they wanted to speak. It caused less arguments, and made it so everyone could actually hear what was going on. Freddie doesn’t allow for Brian to speak this time however. “Yes, Brian dear, I know that you and Y/N will be leaving at five o’clock. Don’t worry, we haven’t created a four hour set list.”  
Brian lowers his hand, a sheepish grin on his face.

You laugh softly, before heading towards the old sofa pushed against the far wall, there was a knitted blanket draped over the back, which you had discovered was mostly there to conceal the rather large tear that had formed in the fabric. Beside the sofa was a bar fridge, which played host to what beer had been on sale recently, and a couple of bottles of water. From what Brian had told you, he couldn’t quite recall how long the water had been I there.  
Knowing you would be here for a while, you make yourself comfortable on the sofa, laying on your side with your head propped up on your hand, watching the four men take their positions.  
“We’re starting with Keep yourself alive. Y/N, tell us what you think won’t you dear?” Freddie grins, as Roger counts the band in, music filling the small practise room in a crescendo.

The music seeps into your very being, and you can’t keep the smile off your face, this must have been the song Brian had been raving about these last few weeks. He refused to give you any details, other than it was a brand-new song, and he thought it sounded incredible! He was right!  
“Keep you satisfied…” Freddie sings quietly, as Brian and Deaky play the last few chords to the song, Roger twirling his drumstick once, just for show.

“Holy shit…” You whisper, staring wide eyed at the band before you. Four sets of eyes stare back at you, all unblinking, as if daring you to speak first.  
“You guys, that was incredible! Do you have any idea how far you guys are going to go? You will make it big with this type of music, everyone will know the name Queen!”

Freddie laughs gleefully giving Deaky a sturdy hi-five, as Roger throws one stick in the air, his bright blue eyes sparkling a the knowledge of people loving their song. Brian steps over to you, reaching his hand out to you, your own hand moving to clasp his, allowing him to help you to stand.  
“You really liked the song?”

“Of course I did, it was amazing. I never knew you could compose like that, you’ve been keeping secrets from me.” You tease, swinging your hands gently back and forth, between the two of you, your fingers locked tightly together.  
“Queen will be big, no, bigger than big! You guys are going to be stars! And you, Brian May, will shine the brightest.”


	4. How much vinegar is too much vinegar?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there demons, it's me, ya boi....
> 
> So hey there, I'll warn you all now, as of the next chapter the rating for this story is going to go up, and mainly that's because my depression had flared up big time, and the only way I know how to deal with it at the moment is by writing hella depressing chapters!  
> I'll try to write it so that anyone who doesn't want to read something sad, is able to skip the chapter without missing out on any of the rest of the plot! But please don't hold me to that at the moment, as said chapter is only in the works at the moment!
> 
> Anyways, for the time being, please enjoy some more banter between Bri and reader (Because we all love a good reader insert!!!)  
> Also the last bit of this chapter does start to set up the mood for chapter five, just as a heads up!
> 
> As always, peace and love <3

Your eyes roll for what felt like the hundredth time that day, Brian was swinging your interlocked hands gently between the two of you, as walked through the streets of London.  The sun was beginning to set behind the tall townhouses, that were becoming few and far between the longer you walked.  
“But are you sure it was good Y/N? Good enough to perform at our next gig?”

You want to laugh but know that in doing so you would likely hurt Brian’s feelings. “Yes, I promise you it was incredible! I don’t know how many more times I can possibly say it? “

You feel your arm being tugged from behind as you continue to walk, looking back over your shoulder, only to find Brian now standing still in the middle of the foot path, his fingers still interlocked with yours tightly, preventing you from going any further.  
“It’s just…. It’s the first song I’ve written for the band. And the fact that the rest of the guys like it enough to include it in our next set list, I just can’t quite fathom it.”

You don’t think you have ever seen Brian look so shy, his head was dipped low, with his hair, now in its natural curly state, curtaining his face from you and the world.   
“Hey, Bri. Hey..” You Whisper, the few people walking by you on the streets giving you curious looks, though none say anything. You reach your hand up to rest against his cheek, your fingertips brushing against the ends of his curls, carefully you guide his head up so he was looking at you, his dark eyes boring deep into yours.

“Hi.” He breaths out, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looks down at you. There is a tension resting over his brow as you gaze at one another, his eyebrows creased together tightly.

“Brian, you listen to me. I promise you, anyone who hears your new song will absolutely fall in love with your music, and with Queen. Dare I say, they may even fall in love with you, the genius who created this masterpiece of a song!”

A small chuckle slips from Brian’s parted lips, and you can see the frown in his brow soften. “Well it won’t do them much good to fall in love with me. You’re the only one for me.” He steps closer to you, both of his hands moving down to your hips, pulling you flush against him.  
You can’t help the blush which floods your cheeks, as you stand in the protective, comforting embrace of his arms.   
Brian brushes his nose against yours, slowly nudging your head to tilt upwards, so his lips could press against yours softly.

Slowly, you pull away from the tender embrace, blinking your eyes open so to look up at Brian. “As much as I love you, I am rather hungry, that rehearsal really took it out of me!” You grin, nudging your shoulder against his playfully.

“Oh that’s right, I’m expected to feed you aren’t I?” Brian laughs, resting his palms over your shoulders, and twirling you in a circle so you were facing away from him. He lowers his hands down, so they once again lay against your hips, leaning down and placing his chin over your now vacant shoulder.

Brian steps carefully, making sure not to step on your heels as he ushers you forwards, you grin and shake your head at his antics. “This is the most awkward yet comforting way I have ever walked. I just need you to know that… Also why the hell am I leading? I have no idea where we’re even going!”

Brian falls silent as he mulls over your words, he hadn’t thought about that fact.  He was used to going to the fish and chip shop with Freddie and Roger, who both knew the way blindfolded!   
“You’re right, maybe I should lead? Let’s swap!”

“You’re an idiot!” You giggle, though the grin remains plastered to your lips, as you continue your slow, lumbering walk down the street. A little girl sitting on her father’s shoulders waves at the two of you, and you give her a cheery wave back,  while Brian grins at her.  
The little girl kicks her Mary jane clad feet against her fathers chest, and you watch him cringe at the feeling. You can only hope she wouldn’t do that too many more times, otherwise he may force her to walk!

A small shop made of white bricks comes into view a short while later, the whole front wall was made of floor to ceiling windows, with a balcony at the front supported by bright blue pillars.  There were posters plasters on the inside of the windows, while one’s likely not supported by the family owned business, had been pinned to the pillars, stacked at least five high.  
“Welcome to Roma’s chip shop!” Brian grins, bowing low while gesturing to the front door, “Here you will find not only the most amazing chips this side of London, but also the freshest fish you could possibly find, without having to catch it yourself!”

You curtsey in response to his bow, before walking past him towards the front door, where a bright red sing indicated they were open.  
“I’m sure they do battered sausages too right? You wouldn’t dream of taking me somewhere that doesn’t serve battered sausages, right?”

You can almost see the life leave Brian’s eyes as he glares at you, he throws his arms by his sides in defeat, before sulking over to you by the door.  
“I take you to my secret, special place. And all you can do is ask if they do battered sausages?”  
You shrug, sending a wink his way, then push on the door, struggling for a few seconds when it doesn’t budge.  
“It says pull…”

“I will kill you!”  
You switch opening tactics, only to find that when you pull on the handle, the door glides open, a small bell jingling from above, signalling your arrival. The small shop was rather quiet, considering it was getting close to what most would call dinner time, though if the food was half as good as Brian had been making it out to be, you could only assume it would get busier as the evening went on.

Brian leads you over to a small table with various condiments spread out on top, a pile of menus balanced precariously on the corner too. “Aside from a battered sausage, is there anything else you practically feel like?”

“Chips that are absolutely drowning in vinegar and salt!  I want to be dehydrated after one bite!” You laugh, as you look at the menu over Brian’s arm, surprised to see just how many options they had available.

“I’ll see what I can do for you. Did you want to wait for me outside, then we can find somewhere to sit?”  Brian grins, as he folds the menu closed, placing it back on the wobbly pile.  
You smile up at him, nodding your head twice in agreement.

“See you soon.” You wave, as Brian heads to the counter, and you make your way back outside, into the fading afternoon light.

Settling down on an old, wooden picnic bench, you smile to yourself as you pick at the splinters forming on the tabletop. Your theory being, if you got rid of them now, you wouldn’t accidentally drag your arms across them later, and spend the remainder of the evening prying them out of your skin.   
Your feet swing idly as you gaze around, watching the people in the park ahead of you. Families setting up picnic dinners, couples holding hands, and a few people reading on the scattered park benches, all enjoying the pleasant weather.

“I present to you, grease, grease, vinegar, and more grease!” Brian laughs from behind you, as he makes his way over to your chosen picnic bench, you had been so caught up in your people watching, that you hadn’t heard him approach. He places three newspaper wrapped packages in the centre of the table, grease seeping through the black and white paper. With careful fingers, Brian peels the wrapping away, presenting your battered sausage, his own order of battered cod, and from the smell of it, a heaping pile of vinegar doused chips.

“I love you…” You smile, reaching out and taking a piping hot chip, popping it in your mouth, and immediately regretting it. You pull a face of disgust, as you bring your hand up and fan your open mouth.

“Too hot? I could’ve told you that!” Brian laughs, as he takes a chip for himself, blowing on it for a few seconds, before biting into the hot potato.

You glare at him once you’ve sufficiently scolded your tongue. “You could’ve been a gentleman and warned me!” The glare doesn’t last long, they never do when directed at Brian, he always has a way of making you smile. “On the bright side, the vinegar to salt ratio is perfection!”

“I think I used half of the bottle…”

“That’s the only way to prepare hot chips! In fact, if you use any less than half a bottle, you’re doing something very, very wrong!”

Opening up the paper around your order, you are almost drooling as you breathe in, it smells incredible! Of course, a battered sausage is one of the most unpleasant looking items you could possibly order, but the taste is everything you could ever ask for.  
“That really is disgusting…” Brian smirks, as he squeezes a lemon wedged on his battered cod, gesturing with a chip in is other hand, towards your food.

“It doesn’t matter how it looks on the outside, it’s all about what’s inside that matters. And what’s inside, is pure heaven!”

Brian looks unconvinced, but decides against saying anything more on the subject, fearing it may end with his demise if he continued to speak badly of the fired food.   
“I mentioned to my parents the other day about Queen.” Brian shrugs, as he picks at the fish, flaking off bite sized pieces.

“Oh? Was that when they called earlier this week?”

“Mhm.” Brian sighs, as he chews the fish, in what was either a thoughtful, or angry manner.

“I’m guessing that explains why you were in a bit of a bad mood following that conversation… You even allowed Roger to play ‘Pramy’ in scrabble that night, I figured something had happened.”

 

“I told them I was thinking of not returning to college after break is over, you know, seeing how far we can go as a band.”  
You lean forwards on the table, propping your chin up on your hands, looking at Brian intently.   
“Mum thinks I should give it a go. Dad on the other and, well, he thinks it’s the stupidest idea he’s ever heard.”

“But why? Is he worried about your education? If that’s the case, does he know you can always pick up your studies later on? There’s still time to become Doctor Brian May!”

“That’s exactly what I said! But he doesn’t understand that! He thinks I’ll need a degree to go anywhere in life, ad as he said on the phone. ‘You and that guitar won’t get anywhere.’”

You frown, reaching out across the table, and wrapping your fingers around Brian’s, squeezing gently to reassure him you were there.  
“What the fuck? If that’s how he feels, then why the fuck did he help you build Red?”

“That’s a good fucking question! One that’s I didn’t think to ask at the time, instead I just hung up the phone.” You watch as he takes a fistful of chips, not bringing them to his mouth, but instead squeezing them tightly into his fist, a waste of perfectly good chips, not that you would say that.

“Is that why you were asking for reassurance over Keep yourself alive? You wanted to know that someone else other than you and the band, thought that your music was going to take you places?”  
Brian doesn’t respond, but his silence is enough to confirm your suspicions, and that only causes you to tighten your hold on his hand.  
“You’re going to prove him wrong one day. I can guarantee, someday Queen will be everywhere, you’ll be on the radio, on the television, you’ll even be on stage! Everyone will know that name Queen!”

“You’re too good to me.”

“Trust me, I know. But it helps boost my public image by being with someone as sad as you.” You wink, causing Brian to laugh, a deep hearty chuckle that came from deep within.

 

The sun sets completely, the only light coming from the streetlamps scattered around the park, and courtyard out the front of the Roma’s where you had been sat for hours now. You look sadly down at the chips in the centre of the table, the smell of vinegar wafting off them. Perhaps Brian had gone somewhat overboard with the vinegar, both of you having given up on the chips, halfway through the pile.   
“You look tired, do you want me to take you home?” Brian smiles, his dark eyes shinning in the dim lighting.

The last thing you wanted was to go home, but Brian was right, you were growing tired, and a chill had set in in the air, which was beginning to seep into your bones.   
“Let’s go, I might even have some ice-cream left over that I could entice you inside with.” You grin, as you both stand from the table, Brian darting around to your side and wrapping his arm around your waist, as you make the slow journey back to your home.

                                                                                                                     ***

 Once you arrive home, the first think you notice is that none of the lights have been turned on, maybe Bree had gone out for the night and forgot to turn them on? You try to remember if she had mentioned anything about not being home tonight, but nothing springs to mind. Though you had been spending a fair bit of time with Brian lately, and hadn’t been home all that much, so perhaps she just hadn’t thought to mention it to you?  
Your hand fumbles with the key a few times due to the dark, before you manage to secure it in the door lock, twisting until the lock clicks open.   
“Bree? Are you home?” You call out into the dark apartment, Brian walking in behind you, shrugging his jacket off and hooking it up by the front door.   
There’s no answer to your call, confirming your initial thought, Bree wasn’t here.

“Did she say anything about going out tonight?” Brian asks, as he flips on a few light switches, illuminating the hall so you could both see where you were walking.

“No, she didn’t. I’m sure she’s left a note though, that’s what we always do, when either of us go out and aren’t able to tell the other.” You smile, as you make your way into the small kitchen, flicking the light on for the small room, and look around for a note.  Brian follows  you in, and looks around himself, neither of you finding anything relating to Bree’s whereabouts.  
“That’s really odd, we always leave a note in the kitchen…”

“Maybe she left it somewhere else? Do you want me to check in the sitting area? You could check the bedrooms?”

You nod, a frown creasing your brows as you move out of the kitchen and into your bedroom, searching for anything that could give away Bree’s location. You find nothing in your room, and turn to search in her’s instead. “Maybe she wrote it while getting ready, and forgot to bring it out to the kitchen?” You call out, in a meagre attempt to reassure yourself more than Brian.

“Of course that’s what has happened, it’s probably in the bathroom, I’ll go look!” He calls back, and you can hear his clogs thumping up the hall.

The search in Bree’s room turns nothing up, only a pile of dirty clothes, and a messy dressing table that had more makeup than you had ever seen. The bed however, was perfectly made, each corner tucked in neatly, with the duvet ironed to perfection.  
You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, and your vision was growing blurry.  
“Bri… Did you find anything?”

“No, there’s nothing in here.”

You leave Bree’s room, keeping the door slightly ajar as you meet Brian in the hall. “Maybe Roger knows where she is? Or maybe they’re together?”

“They have been spending a fair bit of time together lately, that seems likely!” He leads the way into the sitting area, dialling his phone number, and passing the receiver over to you.  
After three rings, Freddie’s voice comes through.

“Hello?”

“Freddie? Hey it’s Y/N, is Roger there?”

“Oh, hello dear, of course he is, just a moment!” Freddie sings back, before turning away from the receiver. “Rog! It’s for you!”

There’s the sound of shuffling feet, before the noises of the phone trading hands.  
“Y/N? Hey, what’s up?”

“Do you know where Bree is, is she with you? Or has she been with you?”

There’s a pause, which seems to last for hours, the silence hanging in the air like a thick fog. “I was going to ask you the same thing. She was supposed to come over a couple of hours ago. I assumed maybe she had fallen asleep, is she not at home?”

You gulp, your hand shaking and very nearly dropping the phone. Brian steps up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist snuggly, resting his chin over your shoulder, in both an attempt to comfort you, and to also hear what was being said on the other end of the line.  
“N-No, she isn’t home. I don’t think she’s been home for a few hours now…. She didn’t leave me a note either.”

There’s that silence again, it’s intoxication, neither you nor Roger seem to know what to say. “I’ll keep looking in case Brian and I missed her note somewhere, can you let me know if she turns up at your place?”

“Of course I will, and vice versa.”  
You hang up the phone, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as a million and one thoughts swirl around your mind, and none of them good.

“What can I do?” Brian asks quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. You know he’s trying to comfort you, but it only makes you feel worse right now, you’re too distracted to pay him much attention.

“I don’t know. Just…. Just help me look around again, there has to be something the we missed!”

You spend the next twenty minutes tearing the apartment apart, searching everywhere for a damned scrap of paper letting you know where Bree had gone. You find nothing, and that’s only causing your panic and concern to grow.  
Suddenly, the shrill ring of your phone echoes through the quiet home, neither you nor Brian had spoken as you searched,  the phone now breaking the eerie silence.   
You can’t remember the last time you had run so quickly but you had made it to the phone hallway through it’s second ring.   
“Bree? Roger?”  
You’re met with silence.


	5. Doctor, Doctor give me the news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,  
> I'm so sorry I haven't posted a new chapter in so long. This monster took me quite a while to write. It has been quite difficult writing this, and please note that this chapter, and the next will be dealing with death, and grief. Due to this, the story rating is now mature.  
> If this is something you do not wish to read, then please bare with me, chapter 7 will be back to our usual banter.  
> Thank you everyone who has stuck by me during this writing process, I hope you enjoy this new chapter! (I'm not sure if enjoy is the correct word to use here, but you know what I mean!)
> 
> Peace and love my dudes <3

You barely register Brian repeating your name, as he stood behind you, arms folded across his chest. You’re in a daze you can’t hear, you can’t speak, you can barely even think, let alone attempt to process the words which had just been spoken through the phone. Your arm falls to your side, fingers going slack, and dropping the receiver to the ground where it barely misses hitting the floor. Silence fills the room, all that breaks it is the sound of the dial tone from the phone.  
“Y/N, who was it?” Brian asks softly, reaching a hand out to you, gently resting his palm over your shoulder.  
You shrug it off, stepping away from him as you race out of the kitchen, hurrying to the front door where you had left your wallet, and jacket.  
“Y/N! Wait, what’s going on?”  
The door closes behind you as you zip your jacket up, clutching your car keys in your trembling hand. The door creaks open, then shuts firmly, as you’re followed by hurried footsteps, Brian jogging to keep up with your sprint down to the street where your brown commodore awaits your arrival.  
“Here, let me drive.” Brian soothes, as he wraps his fingers around your shaking hand. You had missed slipping the key into the car lock at least five times, at this rate you were the last person who should be driving. “Just tell me where we need to go.”

You can’t quite bring yourself to speak right away, instead circling the car and slipping into the passenger seat. Brian turns the key in the ignition, the old commodore rumbling to life as he pulls out into the street. He doesn’t ask any questions, opting instead to start heading towards town.  
Finally, with your head pressed back against the head rest, your hands clasped firmly together in your lap, you form the word you need.  
“Hospital.” The word is barely more than a whisper, though with no other sounds in the car it was impossible for Brian to miss. With a quick nod of his head, he takes the necessary turn to begin the drive to the hospital. He’s smart enough to remain silent, he may not know what was going on, or what you had been told on the phone, but whatever it was had to have been urgent.

                                                                                                              *****

_“You should join our band…”  
You scowl down at the piece of paper on your desk, gnawing the end of your pen in absolute frustration.  Bree’s words only just managed to register in your confused mind, and they are strange enough to stop you in your tracks, English essay be damned._

_“I’m sorry, I should do what now?” You ask slowly, turning to face your bored friend, who was sat next to you in the local library. While you were frantically trying to finish your final essay for the year, Bree had opted for a more relaxed approach to these final few weeks of school. She was under the impression that, seeing as she had already been accepted into college, she didn’t need to worry about her last few exams. So instead, she had busied herself by drawing in her sketch book, as you stressed yourself into early greying hair._

_“Don’t play dumb, you heard me! You’ve always wanted to play the drums more, and you know I have a killer voice!” Bree was never afraid to speak what she called ‘the truth’. Though in this instance, she was in fact correct._

_You used to drum when you were younger, playing in your school band, though as you grew up, it no longer seemed like the cool thing to do. So, you gave it up, something that to this day, you thought had been a mistake.  
“I can’t just join a band Bree, that’s ridiculous. I haven’t played the drums in years, besides, you’re not even in a band?”_

_“I’ll have you know that I actually am in a band!”_

_“And what do you do in this band?”_

_“Lead vocals and bass guitar.”_

_“You can’t play bass…”_

_“I can too!”_

_“You’re mediocre at best! You had one boyfriend who showed you some of the more basic chords.” You deadpan, shaking your head before turning your attention back to the essay you had abandoned._

_Bree pouts, though she too returns to her art, shading the picture with a rather heavy hand. You don’t want to ruin her plans of starting a band, but it all seemed rather unrealistic, and besides, your work load in the new year would be beyond a joke!_  
You draw a line through a sentence, finding your mind no longer solely focused as it had been before.  
“I actually took a few lessons, learnt how to play some songs even.” Bree mumbles, the corner of her lip twitching into a smile.

_You bite your bottom lip and roll your eyes, you couldn’t let her win this!_

_“And I know you could still drum like you used to, better even! I see you tapping away rhythms all the time when you’re thinking. See, you’re doing it now!”  
You let out a sigh as you look down to your left hand, where sure enough, your fingers were drumming along to a beat that was stuck in your head._

_“Who else is in this band, do we have anyone to play lead guitar?”_

_“Guitars are overrated.”_

_You glare at Bree, who quickly throws her hands up in surrender at your disappointed gaze. “Jake is the one who actually came up with the idea.”_

_You shudder at the mention of your on again off again boyfriend. “Nope. No way, I absolutely refuse to be in a band with that man.”_

_Bree raises an eyebrow at your obvious disgust towards the man. “I thought you guys were on good terms at the moment?”_

_“I mean, we are, I think? I don’t know. We aren’t exclusive, and I keep seeing him around with this blonde bombshell. It hurts, you know? And it shouldn’t, because I’m the one who suggested we take things casually! But I guess I assumed when I said that, it would be me on the arm to Mr Perfect, with him jealous, not the other way around.”_

_Bree nods, her eyes softening as she listens to you. It wasn’t often that you opened up so freely, you preferred to keep things bottled up, and deal with them as best you could.  
“Sorry, I didn’t realise.”_

_“No, you have nothing to be sorry for, there was no way for you to know.” You shrug, closing the notebook you had been working in. “The problem, is that he’s a bloody good guitarist, and together we would make a fucking awesome band.”_

                                                                                                              *****

It feels as if you have been driving for hours by the time the bright lights of the hospital come into view, the larger than life white building filling you with a sense of dread as Brian pulls to a stop in the drop off area.  
“Should I continue on and park, and meet you inside?” Brian asks softly as you swing the door open, sliding one leg out and onto the ground.

“No, please I need you to come with me.”  You don’t wait for his answer, knowing that he would once again be following you, and the sound of his door slamming shut only serves to confirm this.  
Your feet pound on the tiled floor as you race inside, Brian quickly catching up to you with his long strides. You slam into the reception desk, planting your palms firmly on the desk before you, breathing heavily as you swallow the sick feeling that had been steadily creeping up your chest.  
“We’re looking for Bree Skewes. She was admitted into emergency a few hours ago.”

The receptionist looks up at you, a sympathetic smile slipping across her thin lips. “Are you her family?”

You blink twice, you hadn’t thought about the need to introduce yourself. The Nurse you had spoken to on the phone had simply told you to get here as soon as possible.  “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I’m Bree’s housemate, and emergency contact.”

The receptionist looks over her notes, and nods stiffly, before peering back up at the two of you. “Yes, of course Miss Y/L/N. You will find Miss Skewes on floor five, ward B, the third room on the left.”  
In an instant, you’ve propelled yourself away from the desk, using the momentum to hurry over to the elevator, impatiently pressing the up arrow at least twenty times.  
“I feel sick.” You sniff, once the metallic doors slide open, Brian taking your hand and leading you inside. Pressing one long finger against the circular button, labelled ‘5’, you shuffle your feet against the floor as you watch the numbers slowly tick by on the small screen above the doors.

“It’s all going to be ok love, I promise.” Brian whispers, squeezing your fingers snuggly between his own, in an effort to comfort you.  
He was wrong though, how anything could possibly be okay in this situation was beyond you.  
Though, he had no idea what was going on. That was your fault. You could barely bring yourself to believe what the nurse had told you over the phone, and you honestly didn’t want to believe the news either.

As the doors slide open, you take two steps, then stop, you can’t bring yourself to move any further out of the elevator, the reality of the situation hitting you all at once. There’s a Doctor walking towards you now, as Brian wraps his arm around your waist, guiding you out of the elevator fully, leading you closer to the marching man in scrubs.  
“Miss Y/L/N? Hello, I’m Doctor Emmanuel, thank you for coming so quickly.”

You feel as if your hands haven’t stopped shaking since you arrived home, though now, as you follow Doctor Emmanuel into a small seating area, everything goes still. Your hands refuse to shudder, your breathing is slow and deep, even the sickness pooling in your stomach ceases to exist. Brian takes a seat beside you, resting his hand over your knee, and at this point you’re not sure if his constant contact with you, is more of a comfort to you or him.  
“We have contacted Miss Skewes family, though I understand they do not live locally, is that correct?”

“Y-Yes. She moved here from Brussels a few years ago for school. Her family are still there though.”  It’s an automatic response, one that you had heard Bree use numerous times. People constantly questioned her accent, then asked for her entire back story, she had grown so tired of it that she shortened the backstory to cover the bare minimum.  Of course that didn’t always stop her from coming up with extravagant stories for herself.

                                                                                                              *****

_“Well you see, this accent is actually a disguise. I’m really from Australia, but you after I had a rather intense break up with the Australian Prime Minister’s son, he threatened if he ever saw me again, he would make sure I would never see the light of day again! And well, I ran into him at the beach once, and suddenly, as if they had been following me the entire time, a swarm of agents dressed in black suits and sunglasses circled me! I barely managed to escape, but I knew, from that moment on that I had to be careful. I fled to London, and adopted a new name and accent, just to really throw him off the scent, and I haven’t seen him since!”_

                                                                                                              *****

You shake your head softly, a small smile tugging at the very corner of yours lips, the memory of how Bree had explained her accent to Jake, was a story you would never forget. The doctor had continued to speak as your mind drifted away, though you’re quickly brought back to the present, when you remember where and why you’re here.  


“Miss Skewes was found collapsed out the front of your apartment complex at approximately 1405. A concerned passer-by called an ambulance for her, and we spent the last few hours attempting to contact you and her family, to inform you of what has happened. We have run various tests, X-rays, MRI’s, CT scans, everything possible…”

“And what have you found? Is she okay? What’s wrong with her?”

The doctor rests his hands in his lap, and you sink back into the chair. Brian reaches over and clasps his hand with yours, your fingers tightening around his in a vice like grip.  
“Miss Skewes has fallen into a coma, from what we have found, she had developed pneumonia, which was left untreated. Due to this, she developed a condition called sepsis as her body attempted to fight off the ongoing infection.”

You turn your head to the side, glancing at Brian timidly, though from what you could see, he looked almost as confused as you felt.  
“I don’t…. I don’t understand. What does sepsis do?”

 

 

Doctor Emmanuel clears his throat, drumming his fingers over his knee, as if thinking of the best way to explain the situation.  
“Miss Skewes body was producing white blood cells to fight off the pneumonia, this is what occurs in the body during any infection. However as this was left untreated, the inflammation the infection had caused in her lungs, allowed for sepsis to occur. The body was unable to fight off both the pneumonia and sepsis, so it went into, shall we say, damage control. In times of crisis, the body begins to shut down organs in an effort to save itself. The sepsis however, had already effect a few of her organs.”

The doctor trails off, as you stare at him, blinking back tears as they sting the backs of your eyes. How had all of this happened, and yet you were none the wiser? Bree hadn’t complained once! And yet, somehow, her body was doing all of this?  
You look at Brian once more, who had tightened his grip over your fingers, his knuckles turning white in the process. His deep brown eyes meet yours, and silently you beg him to ask what you can’t.  
“Which organs?”

The doctor nods slowly, flipping open the chart that he had laid over his lap. “Her lungs, which were already damaged from the pneumonia, and her brain. We believe the damage caused to her brain is what has placed her in the coma.”

You bite down on your lower lip, feeling your jaw quiver with unshed tears. “Bree, has brain damage?”

“Unfortunately, without her waking up we are unable to confirm how significant the damage is. Though to answer your question, yes. Miss Skewes has sbrain damage to some degree.”

“If… No, when she wakes up. Will she be the same? Is she still Bree?”

At this, Doctor Emmanuel stands, clasping his hands behind his back as he looks down at you, a soft smile on his lips. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N, we have no way of knowing.” He steps forwards, placing one hand over your shoulder, leaving it there for a few moments, before stepping away.  
“You are welcome to see her.”

From the corner of your eye you watch the doctor leave, making his way to speak with the nurses who were constantly monitoring Bree. There is a tightness in your chest which refuses to leave, and as you look towards the door where Bree resides behind, you feel it grow. You feel bile rise up your throat, and you simultaneously want to scream, and be sick.  
Slowly, you stand from your seat, pulling Brian’s hand up with you as you move. “Would you like me to come with you?” Brian asks softly, drawing soft circles on the back of your hand.

“I think I need a few minutes alone with her please. Is that okay?”

Brian nods, his hand slipping away from yours gently. “Of course that’s okay, if you need me, I’ll be outside.”

You smile as best you can at him, though it’s a strained look, one that you both know means that nothing about this situation is okay, be any means.   


 

 

The white door leading to Bree’s room is slightly ajar, having been left that way for prompt access. You shoulder it open and take a tentative step inside. You can barely bring yourself to look over to the bed, where the shell of your best friend now lays.  
Bree is hooked up to a breathing machine, along with a drip in her arm, there’s a cuff wrapped around her bicep taking her blood pressure at various intervals as well. All around her bed are monitors, showing various stats on her overall health. None of the numbers meant anything to you, and the constant beeping from one of the machines had begun to drill its way into your mind, a migraine sure to form. Though all of this meant nothing to you, how could you even spare a thought to a migraine which hadn’t yet formed, when Bree was laying before you?

 

The slow rise and fall of her chest is barely visible beneath the crisp white sheets tucked in around her, she’s pale, more so than usual. Bree was never able to tan, she only had two colours, ghostly white and tomato, but the way she looked now, it was pale even for her. Dark circles around her eyes, made it look as if she hadn’t slept for days, despite now being in an almost permeant sleep.  
“Hey Bree.”  
You whisper, moving closer to her bedside, there was a full glass of water, and a plastic pitcher filed to the brim on a small table beside her, the glass was untouched, and would likely remain that way for a while still.  
Carefully you reach your hand out, your fingers curling around Bree’s, your thumb brushing over her knuckles gently. The chipped red nail polish was far worse for wear than it had been earlier this week, her thumb now sporting practically no colour at all.

                                                                                                              *****

_“You’re not seeing Roger tonight?” You asked with a smile, as you lay across Brian’s lap on your sofa. He had long since fallen asleep, and you had continued to make yourself comfortable, reading as you listened to his quiet snores. You had spent the afternoon listening to records, while reading as the rain pelted the windows outside. Brian had fallen asleep a few hours ago, his book laying open on his chest, with his head resting on the back of the sofa. You had removed the book and marked his page, placing it on the coffee table for him to find when he awoke._

_“Not tonight, just felt like a quiet night in. I didn’t realise Brian was here sorry, if I did, I would’ve given you some time alone.” Bree smiled softly, she looked tired, had for about a week now, but whenever you mentioned it she would just brush your worries off._

_You sit up slightly, stilling as Brian stirs, before returning to his calm snoring. “You don’t have to be sorry! How about I make us some drinks, you grab your nail polishes, and I meet you in your room? We’ll have that quiet night together!”_

_Bree looks somewhat stunned, you knew you had been spending a lot of time with Brian lately, just as she had been with Roger. This was the first time in over a month you would be spending a large amount of time, with just the two of you.  “But what about Brian?”_

_“What about him?” You laugh, sitting up fully now, and stretching your arms over your head. “He’ll be out for hours! He’s hardly been sleeping, a little bit of a nap will do him some good.”_

_“You’re not worried he’ll wake up suddenly?”_

_“Oh trust me, he won’t be waking up anytime soon.” As if to prove your point, you poke his cheek and nose multiple times with your index finger. Aside from scrunching his nose slightly, Brian doesn’t move an inch._

_“Jesus, according to Roger, I once woke him up because I was breathing too loudly!”_

_You laugh along with Bree, as you make your way into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge door and looking through the packed shelves. You had only recently gone grocery shopping but seeing as neither of you had been home very much this week, the food lay mostly untouched._  
Collecting some limes, mint and soda water, you carry the ingredients over the small free space of kitchen counter.  
Next, you took a large pitcher, and began fulling it with lime slices, and mint leaves, before pouring in the better part of an old bottle of white rum. You think it may have been gifted as a birthday present a few years ago, but you couldn’t be sure. You mix in lime juice, and top the pitcher off with the soda water, giving everything a good stir before adding in a small amount of sugar. “It’s alive!” You cackle manically, as you grab two tall glasses and bring them into Bree’s room.

_“You made mojito’s?” Bree laughs, as you plop down on the floor, the fluffy rug tickling your bare legs as you get comfortable._

_“I sure did!”_

_“That’s more of a summer drink don’t you think?”_

_“Well I’m pretending it’s summer! Stop being grumpy and enjoy the booze!”_

_Bree grins, as she sits beside you dumping her wide array of nail polishes between the two of you on the rug. “Alright, alright I’m sorry!” She takes a gulp from one of the glasses, a content sigh sounding from her lips. “I sometimes forget how strong you make these. But fuck they’re good!”_

_You raise your glass up, and Bree does the same. “To strong drinks!” You declare, before taking a gulp of your own, savouring the burning feel of the rum. Perhaps you used too much? If that is even possible!  
“Alright, come here then, I’ll do your nails and you can do mine.” You grin, as Bree selects her polishes. _

_“Make sure you do them messy! Like, don’t paint the entire nail!”_

_You blink up at her as you apply a stroke of polish to her thumb. “You want them to be chipped to start with?”_

_Bree nods eagerly, and you simply shrug, doing exactly as she had asked. “It’s cool, I’m going to start a trend this way!”_

_“Well, I can’t have you starting a trend without me, so you had best do the same for me then!”_

_Close to two hours later, Brian slowly pushed the bedroom door open, he had woken up alone on the sofa, and despite the twinge in his neck from the awkward position, this was the best he had felt in weeks! He had followed the sound of music and giggling up the hall, stopping outside of Bree’s door. It was slightly ajar, he imagined it was to keep the noise down as he slept. As the door swung open, he couldn’t help but laugh. It was obvious the two of you had had a wee bit much to drink, not that he would ever say so aloud!_  
You were laying upside down on Bree’s bed, your head dangling over the end, with your knees propped up, wriggling your toes occasionally to allow the polish to finish drying.  
Bree sat on the floor, hunched over as she painted her own toenails, a cigarette balanced precariously between her lips. He considered making his presence known, as neither of you seemed to be aware he was in the door way.  
He watched as Bree handed the cigarette to your outstretched hand, without a word spoken at all. It was something that only two people who had been friends for years could master, the art of unspoken conversation. Silently, he stepped out of the room, making his way into the kitchen. If you had had as much to drink as he assumed, you would both appreciate an order of greasy Chinese, and he was more than willing to provide.  
                                                                                                              *****  


 

“What should we be doing? I need to know what to tell Y/N.” Brian stood behind the closed door to Bree’s room, speaking quietly with Doctor Emmanuel once again. He kept his voice low, not wanting you to hear the conversation, you had other things to worry about for now.

The doctor takes a deep breath in, placing his hands in the pockets of his coat, his eyes meeting Brian’s directly. “You need to be prepared for the worst. I would recommend saying your goodbyes, now.”

Brian nods, though the words cut deep, somehow, he needs to explain to you, that you need to say goodbye to your best friend, and she won’t be able to say goodbye back, it will be entirely one-sided. Carefully, he creaks the door open, his eyes falling on you and Bree instantly, you were lying next to her on the bed, her small frame taking up only a little bit of room, leaving plenty for you. Your hand clutched hers tightly, and your head was resting against her shoulder. The sight made his heartache, and the tears he had been fighting for the past little while, came springing back in full force, they prickled his eyes, before sliding freely down his cheeks.  
“Y/N, I don’t know what to say…” He breathed out, moving further into the room, and taking a seat beside the bed, in the plastic chair that was intended for visitors.

“Promise me it will all be alright? Say that everything is going to end like the fairy tales. She just needs to be kissed by her Prince Charming, and she’ll wake up.” You plead, burying your face closer into her shoulder.

Brian wants to scream, Bree had been nothing but kind to him, and had answered any and all questions he had had about you when you had first started dating. She was the first to threaten him into the next century, making him promise to never hurt you, or let you be in any pain. But now you were in pain because of her, Bree had never said what to do in this situation…  
“I would give anything in the world to tell you you’re right. You know I would.”

It was a foolish thing for you to beg of him, Brian is as powerless in this situation as you are. “I know what you’re going to say.” You whisper, barely loud enough for Brian to hear.

“You do?”

“I’m not ready to say goodbye. I don’t even think I can.” With that, Brian stands, resting one hand on your shoulder, and the other over your and Bree’s entwined hands. “Why?”

That one word, it has so many meanings in this moment. ‘Why Bree? Why now? Why not me? Why is this happening?’  
“I don’t know, I wish I did.” Brian sighed, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ll leave you with Bree, I just wanted to see how you were doing.”  
He turns to leave, but your voice cuts through the silence of the room.

“Please stay, I need you here with me.”  You don’t have to say it twice, instantly he’s back at your side, resuming the position from moments before.

Three hours pass, Brian watches as you drift in and out of consciousness, occasionally perking up when you hear movement on the opposite side of Bree, thinking perhaps she was stirring, though that was never the case, it was always one of the nurses, checking her vitals instead.  
He watched as the faces the nurses wore changed, they grew more concerned as the night went on, though they never said a word. It wasn’t until two am that all hell broke loose.  


One of the nurses came in, checking everything over as she had done multiple times already, she leant close to one of the monitors, squinting her eyes as she read then reread the readings. Pulling away, she pressed the red emergency button on the wall behind Bree’s bed.  
“Miss Y/L/N, Mr May, you both need to leave please!”  
Doctor Emmanuel announced as he came rushing in, followed by two more nurses, and another Doctor.  You bolted upright, clinging to Bree’s hand tightly. She felt colder than she had before, but you have no time to think, as you and Brian are ushered out of the room.

“What happened?” You gasp, as the door is closed firmly behind you both, and then the blind is drawn over the small window.

Brian wraps his arms around your shoulders, resting his chin atop your head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.” He whispered.  

Your breathing grew quick as you paced the waiting area, Brian leaning against a nearby wall, his foot tapping nervously as he watched you. More people came rushing into Bree’s room, though you felt as if you had no more tears to shed, instead you just wanted to shriek at the top of your lungs.  This continued for forty-five minutes, before the door slowly opened, all eight people who had been in the room stepping out slowly.  
Brian reaches you before you have the chance to hit the floor, he watched as you slowly sunk down on the spot, curling in on yourself as one of the Doctor’s steps forwards. “I’m terribly sorry Y/N and Brian. Bree put up a wonderful fight, but it was too late. I’m deeply sorry for your loss.”

Brian crouches by your side, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, as you lean into him. You have no tears left, though the heavy feeling that sits in your chest refuses to budge.  The two of you sit there for a few minutes, until you feel ready to stand, Brian holding your hand the entire time. “Would you like to see her?” He asks softly, feeling your fingers tighten painfully around his own.

Once again you are unable to speak, and simply nod instead, as you both walk slowly towards the room. The beeping and whirring machines which you had grown accustomed to now lay dormant, no writing on the monitors illuminating the dark room, there is nothing attached to Bree any more, they had served their purpose, and would go back to waiting to help someone else.

Your eyes are glassy as you look down at Bree, reaching your hand out for hers once more, your fingers brushing over hers. She’s cold, too cold. As if having been burnt, your pull away almost instantly, cradling your hand. This is wrong, all wrong! You were supposed to grow old together! This was never part of the plan! You want to say she looks peaceful, though the dark circles beneath her eyes still make her look tired. “You’ve gotta wake up Bree, come on. Bree come on! Wake up dammit, this isn’t fucking fair!”  You cry out, grabbing her cold hand once again, and squeezing tightly, expecting her to suddenly sit upright, wide awake. You can’t seem to wrap your head around this, the idea of Bree no longer alive, it’s not something you want to believe.

                                                                                                              *****                                                                                                                                                                                   

_“Will you come to my funeral when I die?” Bree grinned, downing another shot of tequila as you sat in the dingy pub, too many bottles and glasses to count, scattered around your table. It had been one hell of a long night. This was how you were celebrating your tenth gig together, the show had gone off without a hitch, the pub had loved you, and the owner wanted you back for a regular spot over the summer break, it was an absolute dream come true!  
Jake had long since left with a red head who had been giving him looks across the pub all night, which left you and Bree, not that you minded, you only needed each other to have a good night of drinking!_

_You scoff at the question, downing the last of your whiskey, frowning at the now empty glass. “What sort of a question is that? I thought we had already established I would die before you!” You chuckle, shaking your head softly. “It’s only a matter of time before I do something dumb enough to land me in an early grave!”_

_“Well just in case I kick the bucket first, will you come?”_

_You roll your eyes, but nod anyways. “Of course I’ll be there you idiot. I’ll write this massive eulogy, that would have you rolling in your gave! It will be so unbelievably cheesy, with awful jokes, and I will talk about every bad decision you ever made! It will be so awful; you’ll simply have to rise from the dead just to tell me to shut up!”_

_“That’s what I like to hear! Embarrass the dead girl!” Bree laughs, draining the last dribble of beer from one of the many bottles into her mouth. “Do you think it’s too early to start ticking off things on your bucket list?”_

_“May as well get a head start I say. You don’t want to be rushing on your last few days on Earth!”_

_“That’s what I think too! I feel like I should start with the most fun. Fuck a drummer!”_

_You burst out laughing, sliding off the bar stool and standing before Bree, striking the most sexy pose you can muster in your drunken state. “You can have me any day!”_

                                                                                                              *****

“What would you like to do? I can take you home, or we can wait for her parents to arrive?” Brian asks softly, resting his palm over your shoulder. The motion causes you to jump, your heart picking up pace once again, you didn’t realise Brian had stayed with you this whole time.  
Slowly, you turn to face him, your eyes red and puffy from the constant tears.

“Can we go home please?” Your voice is barely a whisper, though Brian seems to hear you clear as day. His hand glides down your arm, before connecting with your own hand, fingers curling around each other’s, as he leads you from the hospital room. You watch Bree over your shoulder, your mouth going dry as the door closes behind you. She was gone, truly, completely gone, and there was nothing anyone could do about it now.  
Brian leads you back out through the main entrance, carefully pulling you along behind him towards your car. The headlights were still on, shooting blinding light into the bush he had parked before.

“Fucking hell.” He mutters, as he unlocks the doors, slipping into the driver’s seat. You can almost hear him praying that the battery isn’t dead, what with the lights having been on for a couple of hours now. He turns the key in the ignition, and the engine roars to life, both of you releasing a breath neither had realised you were holding.  
He drives slowly, both out of shock from what had just occurred, and to help keep you calm, though he knew all you wanted now was to go home. The indicator clicks as he goes to turn right, your voice pulling him from his concentration on the road ahead.

“Can we go back to your place please. We must tell Roger…. And I don’t want to be alone. Not at our house.”  
You watch Brian carefully, his eyes meeting yours. There’s nothing but sympathy and love flooding his chocolate eyes. His hand moves from the steering wheel, flicking the indicator the opposite direction, so to signal his turning left, the opposite direction from your flat, and towards his instead.

The remainder of the car ride is kept in silence, with only an occasional glance, as if Brian is checking to make sure you were still seated beside him.  
He parks the car on the street, managing to get a spot right outside of his apartment complex, something which rarely happens. Perhaps the universe thinks the two of you have had enough bad luck for one night? He muses to himself, as you both make your way to the front door, rustling in his pockets for the house keys.

You gaze up the stairs, knowing that just three floors up, Roger is sat in his and Brian’s apartment, desperately waiting for a phone call, or visit from Bree. He has no idea that it’s you and Brian who are on your way to see him. No clue of what had just transpired, and you wish you had other news for him.  You don’t remember walking, but somehow you find yourself stood outside of Brian’s front door, watching as it slowly swings open, with Brian’s key still in the lock. Roger is stood directly in front of you, his eyes wide, searching yours desperately. There’s no hiding how miserable to two of you look, and Roger picks up on the mood instantly, taking two steps back, and allowing you entrance into the apartment.

“I’m going to grab us all a drink, I’ll be right back Y/N.” Brian whispers, as he makes his way into the compact kitchen, rummaging through cabinets, until he finds a bottle of whiskey that had been left untouched. He was sure, that if he hadn’t of tapped a note stating, ‘DO NOT DRINK, FOR BRIAN ONLY.’ On the bottle, then it would be long gone.  
As he rounds the corner back into the living area, he finds you and Roger settled beside each other the dingy sofa.

 

Roger’s hand is held tightly between both of yours, your held tilted down as you stare down at your lap. “Bree isn’t coming over, is she?” He asks softly, and it breaks your heart to hear him sound so scared.  
You shake your head no, finally picking yourself up enough to look him in the eye, his pale blue eyes watching you intently.  
“Is Bree ever going to come over again?” He whispers, voice cracking slightly. He sounds like a child, and nothing like the budding Rockstar you’re so accustomed to. There are tears pooling in his eyes, but ever the stubborn man he refuses to allow them to fall, not yet at least.

You take a final deep breath, just as Brian settles the bottle on the coffee table, taking a seat on the arm of the sofa. “Bree won’t be coming here or going home ever again.”  
And just like that, the tears Roger so desperately fought against, were rushing down his cheeks, as he sobbed loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone made it through this chapter okay, I just wanted to quickly say that I am in no way shape or form, a doctor or any type of medical specialist.  
> The medical condition as depicted above, is based off of personal experience. I recently lost a family friend in the exact same way, I have described it to the best of my ability, but please do remember that I am not medically trained (I just work as a medical receptionist)


	6. Broken inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this, another chapter in the same month? Who am I and what have I done with Adrenaline???  
> So this will be the last really angsty chapter (I'm not going to say for the rest of the fic, but at least for the next little while)  
> I've missed writing fluff, and have every intention of getting back into that for the next chapter!  
> As always, I really hope you like this chapter, and I always love hearing from you all!  
> Peace and love <3 <3 <3

The taxi zipped through the busy London traffic, very nearly causing a collisional on multiple occasions, though you nor the other passengers in the cab had it in you to mention the erratic driving. It was typical taxi driver behaviour really, they wanted to get you to your destination as fast as possible, in hopes of earning a decent tip, you were hardly in the tipping mood however.  
To anyone else, today could be described as the perfect day. You had woken up to clear blue skies, the sun shining merrily away without a cloud to be seen. Birds chirped gayly from their nests, as children shrieked with glee bellow. Yes, to anyone who wasn’t about to spend two hours sitting in a church, today was perfect.  
Brian sat in silence beside you, his hand clasped tightly around yours, his knuckles turning white from the prolonged cramped posture. His suit fitted him well, and the bright orange tie he wore around his neck was exactly what the funeral announcement had requested.  
_‘The family has requested that everyone in attendance wear something orange, to remember Bree.’_  
You could picture the newspaper clipping clearly in your mind, it wasn’t something you could easily forget though, the death announcement of your best friend.  You had been sitting at the small circular table in Brian and Roger’s flat, eating cereal at 3pm, when you flipped the page of the newspaper, finding yourself face to face with the obituaries. Only three days had passed, and those days felt both like a lifetime and as if no time had passed whatsoever. You knew Bree’s obituary would be published, but the shock you felt upon looking at it for the first time, nothing could have ever prepared you for that.  
Reading the announcement, taking in the details of where and when the funeral was to be held, made the whole situation all the more real. You had almost convinced yourself it had all been a terrible nightmare, and you would have believed that too, if it hadn’t of been for Brian constantly checking up on you, and for Roger’s zombie like state.  
Brian had found you that afternoon curled up in the kitchen, back pressed against the over door, with you head buried in your knees. He had sat with you for nearly an hour, just holding you, and whispering quiet reassurances into your ear.

As was protocol, you had worn a black dress, pairing it was the most outrageous pair of orange high heels that had ever existed. They sported three shades of orange, snakeskin, and sequins. Bree had loved them, and had worn them without your knowledge on many an occasion.  
Roger sat beside Brian, a black pinstriped suite, and orange scarf draped across his thin figure, he looked as miserable as you felt, all life having seemed to drain out of his eyes. Freddie and John had opted to take their own taxi, promising to meet you at the church before the service began, they had tried to convince Roger to ride with them, but you had insisted he go with you and Brian.

_**********_

_“Darling, are you sure you don’t want Roger to join us?” Freddie asked softly, looking at you with pleading eyes._

_You shook your head no, before sighing deeply. “Fred, I think Roger needs me with him right now. He’s hurting just as much as I am, I think having someone there who was as close to Bree as he was, is what is best. For both of us.”  
Freddie relented after that, he knew when to pick his fights, and could tell this would be a losing battle._

_You had Brian to comfort you, had since the very first second you stepped foot in the hospital, Roger however had suddenly found himself without a shoulder to cry on. Bree had been his go to when he needed someone to vent to as of late, and now with her gone, he was back to square one.  
Try as they might, none of the boys were able to comfort Roger, simply because none of them had experienced loss this way. You however, had. You were dealing with the exact same thing as Roger was, and he seemed to take solace in that fact. If he needed someone to talk to, he sought you out, which wasn’t difficult, as you had been spending all your time at their flat. And the moment you had told him to ride in the taxi with you and Brian, you could see he was about ready to cry once again._

_**********_

Sitting in the church, a coffin decorated in photographs of Bree’s life standing in the centre of everyone’s attention, it all felt almost too surreal. You were sat up the front along with her family, and you could hear her mother sobbing from a few seats away. You turned to look, and spotted Mister Skewes offering Misses Skewes a tissue, before wrapping his arm around her shoulders.  
You longed to have Brian beside you to do the same, or to comfort you in some way, however he, along with Freddie and John were stood towards the back, leaving seats for those who were closest to the family and to Bree. Roger sat somewhere in the middle, you had lost sight of him once you took your seat.

It was your turn now, Bree’s parents had asked you to prepare a eulogy for the day, and despite how much you wished you had said no, at the time you agreed. Your hands tremble as you make your way to the front, the papers you clutched tightly in your fists becoming crumpled. As you stood before the guests, an all too familiar scent hit your nose, and you felt the urge to cry overwhelm you once again. Bree’s perfume, you would recognise it anywhere, she wore the same perfume every day you had known her, no matter the occasion. All rational thinking leaves your mind as you breath in the scent deeply, looking up and over the many people. You almost expect Bree to have just walked into the church. You catch sight of Brian, his mop of curls making him stand out in the crowd, and he offers you a soft smile. Looking around once again, you spot the bottle of perfume sat beside the coffin, how you hadn’t noticed it before you’re unsure, but now you see it clear as day. The bottle is nearly empty, due to Bree’s constant use, and you want to envelope yourself in the smell for the rest of your life.

Finally, blinking back tears, you look down at your papers, and smooth them over, your voice shaking as you begin.  
“Bree was the kind of person you dream about meeting, she was larger than life in every aspect, but yet still one of the most down to earth people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. Despite only knowing each other for a few years, we both always agreed that we must’ve been soulmates in another lifetime.” You pause and look up, tears beginning to cloud your vision. You spot Jake in the crowd, his head bowed, taking in your words, just as everyone else did the same.  
“I always knew I could talk to Bree about anything, she would be my first point of call after a heartbreak, or after an especially good date. No matter what, she was always there to listen, and offer advice. Her advice wasn’t always the best, and on several occasions,  she suggested I drop my degree, and run off to Antarctica with her, so we could live out our lives with penguins. I shot that idea down rather quickly, which then of course resulted in her designing a plan to steal a penguin from the zoo instead. I have a feeling that moving to Antarctica was for purely selfish penguin related reasons, and not because of my crisis over exams.”

You take a deep breath, choking back the sob that so desperately claws its way up your throat. Tears were prickling at your eyes now, but you refused to allow yourself to cry in front of all these people. “I wish Bree was here with us all still today, I’ll miss our band rehearsals and concerts, I know for a fact that Tim’s place will never be the same without Bree singing along to every song that plays over the jukebox.” You smile softly, thinking back to all the times you had found yourself sat in that very bar, screaming your lungs out to each song that played.  
Bree, I love you, we all love you. You’ll be in my heart forever and will be missed eternally.”  
You ball the paper up in your fist, and step away and back to your seat. There was so much more you wanted to say, but your final words had come out strangled, and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Looking over your shoulder, you lock eyes with Roger, his pale blue orbs swimming with unshed tears. All you can do is offer him a half-hearted smile, knowing damned well that it wouldn’t do anything to help comfort him, you barely knew how to comfort yourself in this moment, let alone him and it was all you had to offer.

_**********_

The bright sun almost seemed to be smocking you as you left the church, it was such a stark contrast to the dark and bleak mood you currently found yourself in. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you made your way into the garden behind the church. Most of the guests remained to once again express their condolences to Bree’s family, before either making their way home, to the wake or just back to their lives in general. As they say, life goes on, with or without your best friend.  
You had done well, no tears had officially been shed on your behalf during the entire service,  they had pooled at the corner of your eyes, but you had never allowed a single one to go any further, you flat out refused to cry any more, and hadn’t done so since telling Roger the news last week.

There’s a small wooden bench perched amongst some flowering bushes towards the back of the garden, and you take a seat there, swinging your legs back and forth below you as you look across the garden. Everything was beautifully green and in bloom, and in any other situation this would be an ideal spot to sit and think over how wonderful life was. The quiet is disturbed by footsteps rounding the corner, before the newcomer sits down beside you. “I’m so sorry my love.” Brian murmurs, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, as you rest your cheek against his shoulder.

Brain had sent Freddie and Deaky off to go and find Roger, who had disappeared after the service, he was sure that the drummer just needed some time alone though he would prefer to know he was safe.  
“I kept telling myself this wasn’t real. I had myself convinced that Bree was just gone for a few weeks on holiday, and that she would be back, you know? But this, today, it’s finally dawning on me that she’s not on holiday.” You sighs, pulling away from Brian’s shoulder and blinking up at him. You had wiped off your foundation on his jacket by accident, leaving him with sa rather large mark on his new suit

“I know, I can’t quite believe it either. And I wish I knew what to say.” He whispers.

With a deep sigh, you clasp your hand around his, stroking you thumb over his knuckles. “It isn’t raining.” The statement seemingly comes out of nowhere, and leaves Brian with a look of sheer confusion.  
“The movies… It’s always raining at a funeral.”

 Brain leans forwards, brushing a soft kiss to your lips. “What do we do now?”

“We move on. According to all the ‘dealing with grief’ pamphlets I’ve read, we’re supposed to go on with our lives, just like that.” You want laugh, the idea of continuing on as you would normally sounding like the most absurd thing in the world to you.

“And is that what _you_ want to do?”

“What I want to do, is have a drink.”

_**********_

Today was not a good day, nearly a full week had passed since the funeral and you still refused to allow yourself to cry. Something which was becoming increasingly hard as the day wore on. This was your first time back in your apartment, you had spent the last near two weeks with Brain at his and Roger’s place, desperately needing the company, afraid of what would happen if you were alone. But here you were, once again alone, standing in what was once Bree’s bedroom. Brian had offered to come with you, so had Roger, but you had refused. This was something you had to do, you had to go through Bree’s things, and sort out what was to be kept, donated or thrown away.  You had discussed how to do this with Mister and Misses Skewes, who were both too distraught to do the task themselves. They had told you to keep anything you wanted, and to pack up everything for them in boxes, they promised to be around within a few weeks to collect the boxes.

Going through her room was pure agony, you had started the day off with music blasting from the record player in the living room, but soon enough the memories of Bree dancing to the songs that played became too much, and you returned to silence. The silence was worse, it allowed you to hear your own thoughts, and right now, that was the last thing you need.  
‘Why wasn’t it me?’ The voice in your head repeated, and you dragged your hands down your face, You had been asking yourself that exact question for days now, and at no point could you ever come up with a reason as to why you were still stood here, and Bree was not.  
Picking up Bree’s bass guitar, Penny, you scream, very nearly dropping the electric blue guitar. Bree had saved for months in order to purchase Penny, and the guitar truly was beautiful, and sounded magnificent!

_**********_

_“What would you like me to do with Bree’s bass?” You asked timidly, sitting on the small sofa in the hotel Mister and Misses Skewes were staying at in London._

_Mister Skewes, or Andrew as you had been instructed to call him, turned to his wife Emelia, a pained expression crossing both of their faces. None of you knew quite how to approach this subject, you knew the clean out process had to begin, but the how’s and when’s were difficult to negotiate._

_“Did you ever play dear?” Emelia asks with a gentle smile, sipping her tea as she looks at you expectantly._

_You shake your head no, placing your own cup of tea back on the coffee table. “Bree taught me a little bit, but I was never able to pick it up as well as her.”_

_“No one else in our family plays, Bree was the only one of us who was musically gifted. Please, you keep her guitar, do with it as you will, but please make sure it goes to someone who will appreciate it.”_

_**********_

You can’t quite recall the last time you had driven Bree’s station wagon, if you ever had for that matter? You had your own car, and Bree was always happy to drive you to and from your gigs with your drum kit in the back, but for today, you needed the larger car, and yours just wouldn’t cut it.  
You drive through London, making the short trip to Brian’s flat, knowing he and Roger would be out at rehearsal for the afternoon.  
Thankfully, Brian had given you your own key once you had started spending all of you time there, which made this whole process that little bit easier.

You carry your equipment up the flights of stairs, making multiple trips just to bring everything up, but you don’t mind, the exercise keeps your mind busy, and helps to keep your tears at bay for the time being.  
You set everything up, and feel your anger bubbling in your chest. You knew this was the right thing to do, but the situation surrounding it was all wrong. The sounds of footsteps near the front door pulls you away from your thinking, and as the door swings open, four sets of eyes lock onto you. Freddie and Deaky are here, you haven’t seen them since the funeral, and you’re thankful that they’re here now, especially Deaky.  
“Y/N love, is everything alright?” Brian asks, his eyes moving from yours and focusing on your drum kit which was now set up in his living room.

With a sniffle, you grab the drumsticks out of your back pocket, just as Freddie swings the front door closed. “I can’t do this anymore.” You whisper, and if it weren’t for the shocked look on Brian’s face, you would venture that no one had even heard you speak.

“Do what Y/N?”

“This! Music, the band! I can’t do it! Not without Bree!” You practically shriek, as you step closer to the four men, all who wore faces of sympathy and shock. During your time knowing these four men, at no stage had they ever seen you quite so worked up and emotional, and they had no idea how to react.  
“Roger, my drum kit is yours.”

You thrust the drumsticks into his hands, not waiting for a reply, before storming back to the sofa you had been stood at just before. With care, you pick up the guitar case, with Penny enclosed, making your way over to John. “Deaky.” You mutter, shoving the case towards the young man with a little too much force.

“Y/N, we can’t take these….” John begins, though you cut him off before he can say another word.

“I don’t want to fucking hear it Deacon!”

Freddie steps forwards slowly, as if he were afraid to approach you. “Darling, Deaky is right. We really can’t accept these. Music is a part of you, one day you will want to play again, just not today.”

You scowl at Freddie, your eyes dark with pure anger. “You just don’t fucking get it do you?” You cry, your voice cracking. “None of you fucking get it!”

This time, Brian steps forwards, holding his hand out towards you, long fingers extended your way. “What don’t we get Y/N?”

Taking a shaky breath in, you close your eyes and try to fight back the tears that had once again returned. ‘I will not cry. Not here, not in front of them.’ You think to yourself.  
“That was our thing, music, we did it together. You can’t understand what it’s like, you still have each other, you have your band still. I don’t! What have I got? A drummer, and a guitarist who never fucking shows up! Please, I just can’t have these things around me anymore. I never want to drum again.” You end in a whisper, and just as you do, the heavens open up, lightning filling the dark sky with white light, as thunder shakes the window panes of the apartment.  
Ironic really, it doesn’t rain for Bree’s funeral, but the day you end her dream of starting a rock band, a fucking monsoon hits.

Someone is trying to talk to you, but their words aren’t making it through, you’re lost in your own thoughts now. You’ve failed Bree, you know you have, all she ever wanted was to play music, whether you got famous or not she didn’t care, and she always thought you were an incredible percussionist.  But here you are, hanging up that dream like it was your coat at the end of the day. If you didn’t have Bree to encourage you any more, why should you ever drum again? The joy of drumming came from Bree, you would bounce ideas off each other all the time. She would start playing a groovy little riff, and you would join in, throwing suggestions in at different points until you had something amazing. But that could never happen again, a least not with Bree.

Strong arms wrap around you, and you collapse into them, sobbing loudly as you openly cry in front of Queen. There’s no stopping the tears now that the flood gates have opened, you could no longer hold back the tears you had fought against, and you fell into Brian’s chest as the grief filled tears flow freely from you now.  
In one swift motion, Brian sweeps his arm up under your knees and lifts you up, carrying you through his apartment and towards his bedroom. Someone walks ahead of him, pushing the door open, then swinging it closed behind you both. Gently, he places you down on the bed, before laying down beside you, keeping you enclosed in his tight embrace, as you sob against his chest.

_**********_

As much as he hated to admit it, Brian knew this moment would come, you were strong, that he knew for sure. But you could only be strong for so long, before something finally snapped, and he had just been _waiting_ for the moment to come, though he secretly hoped it never would.  
The others seemed to be waiting just as he was, they knew you could only cover your pain with a smile for a short amount of time, and after seeing Roger break down numerous times, they knew you wouldn’t be too far behind.  
Brian held you tightly, stroking his hands along your back, attempting to sooth you as best he could, but without ever saying anything. What good are words in this situation?

He had been expecting this all week, but had never expected it to come about this way, the last thing he ever thought he would walk in to, was you giving away your drums and Bree’s bass. He knew it must’ve been a near impossible decision for you to make, and if it was what you truly wanted, then he would help you find a good home for your kit and Penny. But he worried that it was a heat of the moment thing. He wished you hadn’t turned him away when he offered to help you pack Bree’s things, perhaps if he had been there, he could’ve stopped things from turning out this way?  Maybe he would’ve been able to convince you that drumming was the best thing for you to do?

Outside his room, he can hear Roger, Freddie and Deaky talking quietly, though it’s too faint for him to catch what they are discussing. Likely they are trying to figure out what to do with the drum kit which now took up the better part of the living room.  He turns his attention back to you, feeling your sobbing become more calm, with greater gaps between each cry. “I love you.” He whispers into your hair, pressing a kiss to your scalp, as he feels you slowly fall asleep against his chest.  
Leaning away carefully, he pulls the cover up over both of you, as he too drifts off to sleep, never letting you go.

_**********_

Waking up in Brian’s arms was not something you were unfamiliar with, however waking up with you both fully clothed, and tear stains on his shirt, that was something you were _not_ used sto. Brian snores quietly, and you peel yourself away from his arms, pulling the blanket back over him as you stretch out your aching muscles  
You had cracked, it had finally happened, and honestly, you felt better for it. The rain continues to patter against the window, the sky now totally black, the street lights illusminating the wet road bellow. Moving silently around Brian’s room, you strip off your clothes from the day, tracking down a shirt, and sleep shorts in his dresser drawers, slipping them on, leaving your clothes in a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed.  
Brian mumbles in his sleep, before rolling over to lay on his stomach, his hair splayed across the pillows to conceal his face. You smile softly before making your way out of his room, and towards the kitchen. All the lights are off, leading you to the conclusion that Freddie and Deaky had left, with Roger either in his own room asleep, or perhaps having left with the others. Scanning the contents of the fridge, you find a cartoon of juice, pulling it out as you search for a clean glass.  With a cup of juice in hand, you look out the window in the kitchen, your gaze turning to the yard that was considered to be part of the apartment complex. At first glance, it appears to be empty, until the faint glow of a lighter alerts you to someone being out there.  
Roger’s out there, alone, in the rain. You’re not sure how you know that it’s Roger who’s out there, but something in the back of your mind is convinced that it is.

Making sure to grab your key, you make your way downstairs and into the yard, finding the blonde stood beneath a tree, which barely shielded him from the rain, a lit cigarette between his lips.  
“Hey, I didn’t think you would be awake for a while yet.”

You shrug, as you make way over to him, standing beneath the tree beside him. “I guess I’m not physically tired as much as mentally.”

Roger seems to contemplate your words for a few moments before nodding in understanding. “Same here, I think. My brain feels like it’s working on overdrive these days.”

You can’t help but laugh at that, the feeling all too familiar. “Trust me Rog, I know exactly what you mean.” Wordlessly, Roger holds out his pack of smokes to you, and you happily take one, before lighting up the end with his offered lighter.  
“I’m sorry about this afternoon, I know this is hard on you too.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You did exactly what felt right to you. And look, at the end of the day, I lost my girlfriend, you lost your best friend. You’re hurting a lot more than I am, I’m sure of it.”

  
You take a deep breath in, inhaling the smoke of your cigarette as you think of Roger’s words. “Do you think it ever gets easier?”

At that, Roger laughs, a grin spreading over his thin lips. “I think we just learn how to cope a little bit better.”

“I suppose I don’t have a very good coping mechanism at the moment.”

“It can’t be any worse than mine.”

“Well let’s look at it this way Rog, up until today I refused to allow myself to cry, and kept everything bottled up and to myself.”

Roger takes one final drag of his smoke, before butting it out on the ground. “True, but mine is no better. Brian put a lock on the booze cabinet because I refuse to do anything other than drink when I think about Bree.”

You run a hand through your damp hair, sending droplets of rain onto the ground. “Well shit, sounds like we’re both as fucked up as each other.”  
You step further into the yard until your standing in the very centre, no longer protected from the rain. There’s no thought to your next move, as you fall backwards, laying like a starfish in the wet grass.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Roger calls, crossing his arm over his chest.

“I’m letting go Roger. I’m letting go of everything!”

Slowly, he makes his way over to you, settling down cross legged on the grass by your side. Both of you staring up at the sky. The clouds were beginning to clear now, leaving room for the stars to peak through. Even the rain was starting to subside.  
“What are you letting go of?”

“I’m letting go of the misery that has been plaguing me for the past two weeks. Letting go of feeling like I could’ve done something to change what happened. Letting go of wishing it was me instead of Bree. I- I’m letting go of Bree.”

From the kitchen window, Brian looks down at his best friend and girlfriend, smiling to himself as he watches the two of you in the rain. The temptation to go down and join you both nagged at the back of his brain, however he thought better of it. Roger needed you just as you needed him for the time being.  
So instead, he went about setting up a pot of tea for when you both decided to come back upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah.... That was a lot of angst, I apologise for that!  
> Also, I'm kind of loving reader and Roger becoming close friends.... The sick part of me has considered adding in a bit of a fling with reader and Roger, but I'm not sure how y'all would feel about that??????


End file.
